The Watcher In the Keep
by Mythique
Summary: Braelyn Hawke never wanted to be involved with the Alliance war machine, but when her parents' ambitions, and the interference of a mysterious city guard, see her sent to Darkshore on an errand for the King, she may not be able to avoid it, especially when she finds herself at the mercy of the Horde.
1. Rogues are to blame for everything

On the surface, Randall Garret was just another Stormwind Guard, different from the mass of identically clad lawkeepers only because he stood watch in the throne room of Stormwind Keep. Yes, there was a certain distinction in being one of the King's guards while he was at home; they were generally considered a cut above the rest. That didn't mean they weren't still the nameless, guy-in-the-corner to just about everybody outside of the Guard. In fact, Randall would be surprised if the King even knew his name. This did not bother him, though. Not at all. The anonymity gave Randall the ability to observe those around him, and to see and hear things that the rest of the city's population could only dream about being privvy to, like when Samuelson was revealed to be a Cultist. That was a very entertaining day.

Besides, it wasn't as if he didn't know that he was more than just a walking, talking meatshield for the Royal Family.

No, Randall Garret was the complete opposite of ordinary. He was a member of a select and very mysterious group called the Agents of the Light. He wasn't exactly sure what they were or how they came to be, but he knew beyond doubt that they were more than the mundane citizens they shared their lives with. They were all races and all genders, all classes and all creeds. They served the Light, but were not priests or paladins. They worked to bring the Light to those who needed it the most, and had abilities that other servants of the church could only dream about.

They also had a tendency to meddle in the lives of regular mortals in order to achieve their goals and, to be honest, alleviate boredom. Boredom like the kind Randall was now experiencing.

With a mischievous smile, the not-your-average-guard, looked around for a new victim to help, his eyes drawn to the young hunter that walked past without sparing him a glance. She looked tired and apprehensive, and rather reluctant to be where she was.

_Yes_, thought Randall, _she looks like she could use a little of the Light's guidance_.

* * *

Braelyn Hawke sighed in frustration as one of the King's advisors placed himself in front of her with a frown of disapproval. It was bad enough she'd had to leave Growly, her beloved bear, outside and hand over her weapons to the guards before coming inside, but now she had to put up with Mr Judgemental as well. She could tell that the man thought she was too bedraggled to be waltzing into Stormwind Keep and asking to see the King, and Braelyn knew he was probably right. But she'd made the mistake of riding through Goldshire, and good luck doing that and avoiding being challenged to a duel by the numerous 'heroes of the Alliance' that hung about the small town like flies instead of making themselves useful elsewhere. Normally, she'd just brush them off and ignore the taunting, but this time, rogues had been involved.

Braeyn _hated _rogues. They were sneaky and disreputable, and entirely too self-confident. There was no way she would ever walk away from a duel with a rogue... she had _some_ pride, after all. And she was generally pretty good at dealing with them too, unless they ganked her. This time, however, the rogue had actually been half as good as she thought she was, which meant Braelyn had a bit of a fight on her hands. She still won, but had to work for it, and was dirty and sweaty at the end of the fight. She then also lacked the time to go clean herself up.

Self-consciously, Braelyn reached up and tightened her pony-tail, then straightened her leather armour. The advisor's frown seemed to deepen.

"Can I help you, Miss?" He asked.

"My parents asked me to bring a letter to the King, sir," Braelyn replied with all the politeness she could muster.

"And who are your parents, to be writing to the King?"

Braelyn bristled. How dare this man treat her as if she worthless just because she wasn't prancing around in a dress like a Stormwind noble woman. "Their names are Ellysan and Jasper Hawke," she snapped, and was gratified to see the advisor's eyes light up in startled recognition. Her parents had served the Alliance for many years before her father retired when she was about five years old. Her mother had only hung up her tabard five years ago. They were well-regarded among the Alliance for their honourable and brave conduct, and respected, even by their enemies. "My name is Braelyn," she added, almost childlishly.

"I see," Mr Judgmental said, polite now that she had proven she wasn't a measly peasant. Braelyn wanted to slap him. "The King is very busy today, I'd suggest giving the letter to me, and I will make sure His Majesty reads it as soon as he possibly can." He held out a hand that had obviously never seen a day's hard work and looked at Braelyn expectantly.

"I'm afraid not," Braelyn replied, "my parents specifically told me to put it into the King's hand myself." She experienced a brief flicker of bitchy satisfaction as the advisor grimaced in annoyance before sighing.

"Very well, miss," he said, "take a seat over by the wall while I inform the King of your arrival. You might be waiting for an extended period of time. His Majesty has a lot of things on his plate right now."

Braelyn nodded and the advisor turned and walked to where the King was deep in conversation with an older man she assumed was Genn Greymane of Gilneas, and a dwarf that she thought might be one of the one of the Dwarven council. As she took her seat, she saw the King's annoyance at being interrupted by his advisor. After a minute, he shot Braelyn a quick glance, then returned to his conversation. _That was friendly_, she thought. She had only seem the King in passing, once or twice at most, and he was always seemed so angry, cold, and stern. Braelyn had a much more positive opionion of his son, Anduin, who seemed to have inherited his mother's warmth and compassion, as well as her looks.

As the time passed, Braelyn closed her dark blue eyes, and wondered what her parents had thought so damn important that they'd sent their daughter to the capital barely a week after she'd returned from the Outland. To be honest, she suspected shenanigans were afoot. They had dreams for their daughter, ambitions. Dreams that involved a career in the King's army, before settling down and popping out a few grandkids for them. All her life, Braelyn had heard how they expected her to follow in their footsteps, and had seen their disappointment when she had shown no inclination to do so, even by her current age of 23. While upset that she could not seem to please them, she was also frustrated by their inibility to see how she was happy being free to serve who she thought needed the help, and not who the Alliance thought needed to be helped. She did not want to take part in the endless cycle of racism, petty grudges over things that happened eons ago, and violent retribution, that characterised the conflict between Horde and Alliance.

Braelyn shook her head to clear her thoughts. There was no point in dwelling upon such things. She noticed that one of the guards was staring at her intently. He was middle-aged, with the most intense eyes she had ever seen. It was uncomfortable to be gazed at like that, not to mention rude, and she was about to say something to the man, when she heard her name being called.

"Miss Hawke?" The king's advisor said. "The King will see you now." He guided Braelyn to where the king stood, the dwarf gone, but the other human remaining.

"Your Highness," Braelyn said, before dropping into a curtsy. Varian Wrynn nodded his head and shook her hand. He had a very firm grip.

"Miss Hawke," he said, "may I introduce King Greymane of Gilneas? Genn, this is Braelyn Hawke, the daughter of two of my finest soldiers." Once again, Braelyn curtsied, feeling herself wobble slightly as she did so. The Gilnean king was polite enough to ignore Braelyn's embarrassment, greeting her with a polite handshake before excusing himself.

"I believe you have a letter for me?" the king inquired.

"Yes, sir," Braelyn replied and dug the missive from her back pocket. As she handed it over, Braelyn winced as she noticed how the parchment was a lot less crisp and white as it had been when given to her. _Damn rogues,_ she thought. Luckily, the king did not seem bothered.

Braelyn watched anxiously as the King read her parent's words. He frowned briefly, then burst into laughter, a loud, brash sound that echoed around the stone walls, and drew the attention of everyone in the room. "My King?" Braelyn asked. The king looked at her and smiled. His eyes radiated amusement, and for a moment, the anger he carried was banished.

"I think you had better read this, Miss Hawke," he said, and handed the letter to her. With mounting apprehension, Braelyn cast her eyes over her father's familiar hand. As she read, her apprension turned to anger. Her hands shook, and she had to bite her lip, hard, to stop herself from cursing her family into oblivion.

"Those... those... " Braelyn stuttered.

"Most loyal and loving people?" the King supplied with a grin. Braelyn looked at him angrily.

_I will not forgive my parent's for this. Never._

* * *

_**AN** - _I hope this chapter was enjoyable. It can be hard to set the stage without boring everyone to tears. I have been playing WoW since vanilla, with a break of several years in between x[acs. My main is a Belf hunter. Her name is not Braelyn, but it's something similar. Reviews are always appreciated.


	2. Resistance is futile

_To His Royal Highness, King Varian Wrynn of Stormwind._

_Greetings, Your Majesty. I hope this letter finds you and your son, our beloved Prince Anduin, safe and well, and that the Alliance continues to prosper._

_I proudly present to you our only child, Braelyn, who is an accomplished hunter. We humbly request a small favour from you; that you assign to our daughter a few small assignments so that she may be useful to her King and country. She has been aimless of late, and we feel that by introducing her to the service of the Alliance she may finally enlist, and stop her pointless frolicking around Azeroth. She is a loyal girl, and will serve you well._

_Your most obedient servants,_

_Jasper and Ellysan Hawke._

* * *

"_Pointless frolicking_?!" Braelyn whisered in outrage. "I don't frolic!"

"Not many people do," the king said in amusement. "Except the elves, of course. Tyrande is an excellent frolicker." Braelyn looked at the royal with a mixture of incredulity and resignation. "I take it you disagree with your parents' assessment then?"

"Light, yes!" Braelyn said. "I can't believe they hold so little respect for my accomplishments, or my goals."

"So, apart from not frolicking around our great lands, what have you been doing with your life, Braelyn Hawke?" The king asked.

As relieved as Braelyn was to discover that her monarch had a sense of humour after all, she really wished it wasn't directed at her. "Well, as soon as I turned 18, I left Goldshire and began traveling around Azeroth, honing my skills, and helping people as much as I could; picking flowers, killing kobolds, escorting travelers, whatever people needed doing, really. I only recently came home from a trip to Outland, where I helped the Cenarion Circle in Zangarmarsh.

King Varian looked thoughtful, stroking his strong jaw line. "It is admirable that you seek to help those in need, and are willing to go so far to do so. You are aware, though, that you could carry out many great, and helpful, deeds as part of the Alliance? In fact, you could help a great a deal more people as part of the Alliance than as an individual."

"I know, my lord, but with all due respect, as part of the Alliance, I would only be helping those who you and our allies decided to, and not who I felt needed the help most." King Varian inhaled sharply, and for a moment, Braelyn feared she'd overstepped her boundaries.

"You think I would refuse aid to those in need? That I would let people suffer needlessly because it would be inconvenient to help them? Or perhaps you feel I would ignore a person in trouble because of their race?" He sounded furious.

"N..no, Your Highness," Braelyn stammered, "I simply meant that in times of strife, people often fall through the cracks, or are afraid to ask for official help when the authorities are busy, or have limited resources."

"I see," replied the king. "You're right about that. The Alliance cannot be everywhere it's needed, unfortunately."

Braelyn finally raised her head and looked at Varian. He was looking at her with an intense and disturbingly determined look in his eye. "I won't lie to you, Miss Hawke, the Alliance needs every skilled body it can get its hands on. The fact that you are the daughter of two of our most loved heroes would also provided a much needed morale boost..." he paused as Braelyn muttered something unintelligible under her breath. "However, I am disinclined to enlist someone against their will unless the situation is most dire. Let me offer you a compromise."

"A compromise?'

"Yes. Instead of signing you up formally, I assign you to an Alliance territory in desperate need of aid, but lacking in resources. You'd still be exposed to the Alliance, but you'd still be able to follow your personal belief of helping where most needed. All that I ask for in return is that once the tasks are completed you give serious and fair thought to joining the Alliance officially."

Braelyn was shocked. She never expected the king to make such an offer. She had always believed him to be rather uncompromising and stubborn. She'd thought he would either throw her out in disgrace, or force her to enlist. The offer itself was very tempting. It sounded like she would be able to pretty much do what she'd always done, only this time she'd have people to report to. And it might actually help her define her goals in life; after all, 'helping people' is a rather ambiguous statement.

Yet, she was still hesitant. She knew that she could resist her parents, but she wasn't sure she could resist the King's wishes, and he obviously wanted her to sign up. Not to mention the Alliance soldiers she'd be meeting. When you fight side-by-side with people, you make friends, and if they wanted her to stay with them, she'd probably do so. Peer pressure was a bitch.

Braelyn's internal struggle must have been evident in her face because the King took her hand and told her that she didn't have to make a decision right away. "Come back and see me tomorrow," he instructed.

Braelyn looked him in the eye with a relieved smile, and said, "No need, I accept your offer."

_Wait... what the hell did I just say?!_

"You will?" the King asked in surprise. "Excellent! For a minute there I thought you'd turn me down. Go get some rest, then return to me in the morning. I'll have my advisors decide on somewhere to assign you."

_No! No... no... no... no. No!_

"Thank you, Your Majesty," Braelyn said cheerfully, and curtsied. The King responded with a bow before turning and leaving the throne room.

Braelyn was stunned. _What the hell did I just do?_ She wanted to scream, but couldn't, given that she was still in Stormwind Keep. To make matters worse, she now had a splitting headache and was exhausted. She raised a hand to her face and began to massage the bridge of her nose.

Hang on... splitting headache and exhaustion after acting abnormally?

"Damn it!" she hissed quietly. "Someone mindcontrolled me!" But who? As surreptitiously as she could, Braelyn looked around her. It was now late in the day, and the throne room was much emptier than in had been when she had first arrived. A few servants wandered about, tidying up, and some of the King's advisors remained to deal with the remaining petitioners. Her eyes lingered on a guard, the same guard that had stared at her so intensely earlier in the afternoon. He was watching Braelyn in return, though his gaze was not as creepy as before. He seemed amused.

Braelyn walked up to the guardsman, but before she could say anything, he smiled and said, "The Light gives clarity, Miss Hawke, although it is not always gentle about how it chooses to do so."

_What an odd, odd man, _she thought. She wanted to confront him, but before she could even open her mouth, she found herself walking briskly out of the Keep.

"Damn it!"

* * *

"I thought you were smart enough not to eat forest mushrooms, Brae."

"Odariah!" Braelyn snapped at the human priest sitting opposite her in the Slaughtered Lamb. "I did not eat forest mushrooms. Or get drunk!" she added with a pointed look at the gnome beside her. She was upset that her friends were not taking the tale of what had happened at the Keep seriously. "What do you think, Andorien?

The tall Night Elf druid sitting between her and Odariah frowned at his drink as he contemplated Brealyn's situation. "I'm inclined to believe that what Braelyn thinks happened to her is true," he said in that rich, melodic voice that all Night Elves seemed to possess. "As a priest, Odariah, you should know that mind control is possible."

"Yeah, for_ priests_, Andorien, not city guards."

"That was no ordinary city guard," Brealyn interrupted stubbornly. "I have no idea what the hell he is, but it is definitely not a guard. If I'm wrong, I'll eat Bitsie."

"Hey!" squeaked the tiny pink-haired woman who had somehow managed to worm her way around Braelyn's 'all rogues are awful, all the time' philosophy. "You understand why we're a bit on the skeptical side, right? I mean, why would a city guard, regular or otherwise want to mindcontrol some random hunter into doing some favours for the king? It makes no sense!"

"Of course I understand! This is the most batshit insane thing that has ever happened to me. I wish I'd eaten forest mushrooms, or drunk a keg of Dwarven ale, but I didn't. This really happened, and now I'm stuck working for the Alliance, the opposite of what I wanted to be doing with my life. I just... a little support, guys, yeah?" Braelyn sighed angrily, and sat back in her chair as an air of gloom settled over the small party, Bitsie and Odariah looking a bit guilty. She looked around the Slaughtered Lamb, which was practically deserted, as always. She hated this bar, preferring the Gilded Rose, in Stormwind's bustling Trade District. It was bright and colourful over there, full of life and energy. The Slaughtered Lamb, by comparison, was dark and dismal, full of cobwebs and harsh whispers. The barman never stopped staring at them, and the basement was full of warlocks doing Light knows what. But Bitise was banned from every other pub in the City, so they had little choice but to come here.

She studied her friends' faces. Odariah Hunt was Braelyn's cousin, and they had been best friend's since before they started to talk. The whole reason Braelyn hadn't taken off at 16 was because she'd had to wait for her friend to finish her studies at the Cathedral of Light. Technically, Odariah should have remained for longer, but her superiors felt that being out in the world might help to settle her exuberant and often reckless spirit. Even without her staff and robes, you could tell she was a Priest. The Light shone brightly within her, and everything about her, from her light brown hair, hazel eyes, and freckled skin glowed softly. For five years they'd traveled together, sharing the highs and lows of the adventurer's life.

They'd met Bitsie Sprazzletorque three years ago in Ironforge. The fun-sized rogue had attempted to duel every other rogue in the city _at the same time. _ Needless to say, it had not worked out well for her, though she'd done better than one would have expected. She survived only because of Odariah's limited healing spells, and because it's hard to stealth with a hunter's flare on the ground, or an arrow in the knee. The gnome paid for the human pair's lodging in gratitude, and had stayed with them ever since. She was a little unreliable, but was trustworthy enough, and possessed a wit sharper than her daggers.

Andorien Starbreeze had found them in Redridge eighteen months ago. And by 'found', she meant 'rescued from a large group of murlocs and gnolls that Braelyn had managed to aggravate with a poorly thought out Multi-Shot'. His Druidic arts had saved not only their lives, but that of Braelyn's pet, who had been on the verge of death. She'd never quite gotten over the embarrassment of that day, nor had forgotten just how handsome Andorien had seemed to her at the moment of his arrival. He was awesome, in the true meaning of the word, with a stately presence that towered over everyone. Dark purple hair framed skin several shades lighter and silver eyes that burned with almost primal fury. Time had not dulled Braelyn's appreciation of the man, and the only thing that had held her back from acknowledging her infatuation was the painful truth of him being in love with Odariah. A love that was obviously returned, if never acted on in the hunter's presence.

_These people are my whole world,_ thought Braelyn, _ even if they do annoy me on the odd occasion_.

"You realise you ain't going anywhere without us, right?" Bitsie declared suddenly, startling Brealyn from her reverie.

"You want to come serve the Alliance now, do you?"

"Eh, not really," the gnome replied with a careless shrug, "but you'd be lost without us."

"And my parent's would never forgive me if I let you go alone," Odariah added, "not to mention what your parents would say." Braelyn let out a rude sound at that. Her parents would be lucky if she ever forgave them for pulling this stunt. She'd already sent them a letter telling them so.

"And knowing you three's talent for attracting more trouble than you can handle, you will have need of my healing skills," added Andorien with a fond smile.

"Are you guys sure?' Braelyn asked. "It could turn nasty. Despite the King's good intentions, I'm willing to bet some his officers won't hesitate to send us into the thick of things."

"We're sure," Odariah said firmly, reaching over to squeeze Braelyn's arm. "We're in this together, Braelyn."

"Hey, maybe we'll get sent to Silithus!" Bitsie said with excitement.

"Elune's breath, no!" Andorien groaned. "The Circle try to recruit me every time I go there."

"What about Un'Goro Crater?" Odariah suggested with a playful wink at Braelyn.

"Don't even joke about that, woman!" Braelyn said. "One encounter with a crazed moron who can't tell the difference between a dinosaur and a dragon is more than enough for me." Her companions laughed, and kept making suggestions, each more outrageous than the last, well into the night.

* * *

"Oh, shit," Braelyn yelled, as an impossibly huge Tauren came charging toward her with great sword in hand. She yelped as she started backpedaling, attempting to pull her daggers free from her belt. Her bow was useless now, she'd run out of arrows ten minutes earlier, and it was not strong enough to use as a club. Returning to the Alliance base was not an option; the middle of the battlefield was awash with the two armies, swords and spells flying, and well placed enemy combatants were picking off Alliance members attempting to use the shelter of the side paths to return to base. She swore under her breath at the Night Elf ranger who had insisted they come here. _I should have known that they'd twist the King's intentions to suit their own purpose_, she thought, narrowly avoiding a collision with a Draenei mage.

The daggers came free, but in her haste and nervousness, Brealyn dropped them. The Tauren warrior snorted in contempt and said something in Orcish. "I almost pity you, human," he added in Common, raising his weapon for what Braelyn feared would be a death-blow. She had no idea where Andorien or the others were, and the Alliance was running desperately low on effective healers. The few they had left were closer to the main action. In a fit of desperation she whistled for her pets; Growly, who she'd set on an Forsaken hunter to distract him, and Giggle, her owl, who was circling the field retreiving arrows for her master. Luckily, Growley had been closer to her than she'd thought, and the massive brown bear slammed into the Tauren, sinking his teeth into a vulnerable area around the warrior's elbow.

"Argh!" he bellowed, as his sword hit the ground. He attempted to shake Growly loose, but only succeeded in angering the bear further. Growly tugged and pulled until the Tauren was on his knees. Braelyn knew she should kill him, that if she didn't, he'd simply get up, call for some of his allies,and kill her and Growley before going off to slaughter her friends, but still... could she really take another person's life? A man whose only crime seemed to be that he was not Alliance? He was fighting for his faction, his people, same as her. How was she any better than him?

Braelyn found her daggers and picked them up, noting how heavy they seemed compared to her bow, which was like an extension of her body. _Maybe my conscience is weighing them down_, she thought. "Growly, down," she instructed, and the bear pulled the man so he was leaning back, exposing his chest and head. By now, he'd lost a lot of blood, and was in no position to do anything other than struggle feebly. She stepped over to him. Her hands were trembling so hard she could barely hold on to her weapons. She let one tumble to the ground, steadying the other with both hands. She knelt by the Tauren's side, placing the tip of her dagger against his armour, over the area where she thought his heart should be. She took a deep breath and prepared to plunge the dagger downwards, when the Tauren let out a weak laugh.

"Foolish, girl," he snorted, "Your dagger is not strong enough to pierce plate armour. If you want my life, you must aim for my throat." He lifted his hand and grabbed Braelyn's, lifting it to his neck. Growly let a menancing growl, but Braelyn quietened him with a shocked, "sssshhhhh".

"You want to die?" She could not hide her surprise. The Tauren laughed again.

"No, but I would rather die honourably, fighting against the enemy who slaughters my people like cattle out in the Barrens, than live with the knowledge I was denied that death by an uncertain or cowardly newbie." He paused, his deep blue eyes becoming almost sympathetic. "There is no dishonour in this, human," he added, before dragging Braelyn's hand, and her dagger, along his own throat.

* * *

_Blood...so much blood_, Braelyn thought as the bright red liquid exploded out of the dying Tauren's artery. "Growly, away!" she screamed and wiped her hands frantically on her chestpiece, but the blood was all over her. It's smell was coppery and cloying, she'd never get it off her, never forget it until her dying day. She heard a heavy thud as the warrior toppled over, and she scrambled away. She was crying, but hardly noticed the tears. Without warning, she felt bile rise up in her throat, and fell to her knees, retching... an action that saved her life, as it spared her from the twin blades of a rogue that had stealthed up behind her. Sensing, rather than seeing something wrong, Braelyn kicked one of her legs back and to the side, knocking the rogue's feet out from under her.

Braelyn managed a clumsy roll to the side, and stumbled to her feet. A loud cracking sound told her that her opponent, a red-haired Blood Elf, had broken a bone when she collided with one of the tree stumps that littered the battlefield. From the way the elf staggered and swore when she put weight on her left leg suggested a broken ankle. Braelyn had time to be surprised by the sound of a Blood Ef swearing in Orcish, before having to duck a throwing knife. It grazed her right cheek, causing a long cut. The sharp burning sensation, and the blood trickling from the wound, combined to bring Braelyn to her senses. The rogue smirked at her, her glowing green eyes self-assured and bold. She put her full weight on both feet and barely even grimaced, even though the pain must have been immense.

Braelyn was dumbfounded. The elf had a broken ankle and was still able to fight? The hunter could not understand how it could be so. She was relativey unscathed and had already had enough, sure that it was only fear and adrenalin that kept her upright. _This must be what experience does_, Braelyn thought. Everything about this elf spoke of many years on the fields of war, which she thought was kind of sad, as the elf seemed barely as old as Braelyn was, even taking into account the youthfulness of the elven races.

Growly came up beside Braelyn and nudged her leg, which was reassuring as the hunter was now unarmed and facing an opponent who, even with a broken bone, seemed more than capable of taking her and her pet out. She thought sadly of her friends, and hoped that they escaped this slaughterhouse. She whistled, and Growly lunged forward, forcing the rogue backwards, her injury barely even slowing the elf down. Braelyn turned and ran, scouring the ground for arrows. _Please, by the Light, just one!_

She took ten steps before the world exploded.

* * *

A/N - The Blood Elf rogue is Norivana Sunstepper, from Breaking Faith by Feffervesce here on FF. Check it out, it's a great read. Also, the moron from Un'Goro that Braelyn mentions is Maximillian of Northshire, who also can't tell the difference between male and female blood elves.

I was really disappointed when I started playing WoW again and discovered that hunters no longer had melee weapons.


	3. Suffer for their failure

For a brief moment, it felt to Braelyn as if time had frozen. Then she was catapulted forward as blistering heat engulfed her, the smell of burning hair filling her nostrils. The flight was short and swift, and ended with Braelyn smashing into one of the Sentinels' discarded glaive-throwers. The pain was immense, but she couldn't even scream, as the oxygen had all been beaten out of her by the heavy blow of her landing. Yes, the pain was immense, but it was also short-lived. Unable to deal with anymore trauma, her bruised and battered body shut down, her mind mercifully drifting off into unconsciousness.

* * *

Bitsie Sprazzletorque was fighting the good fight against the urge to abandon her search and make her escape. Most people had a strong sense of self-preservation, but in the case of someone like Bitsie, self-preservation was an active lifestyle choice. "Ah, girl, what are you doing, huh?" she asked herself, as she nudged the corpse of a female Draenei mage. She got no response, and so kept on moving. "You could be halfway to Booty Bay before Stormwind hears about this monumental cock-up."

But the gnome couldn't leave. She was looking for Braelyn, and if she gave up now, not only could her friend die as a result, but it would also prove all of the human hunter's prejudices about rogues true. So Bitsie kept moving, kept nudging corpses, kept hoping.

She'd been searching for over half an hour and knew that time was not her friend. They had another two hours or so of daylight left, then she'd be stuck in the dark with a bunch of corpses until dawn, and the chance to escape would be lost. There was also the strong possibility that the Horde's clean up crew would decide not to wait until morning.

She'd found Andorien and Odariah already; the two had been huddled together, unconscious, close to the small unused storage shed near the main entrance to the Alliance base. She'd managed to get Andorien, who was near death, into the shed, turning back to find Odariah conscious and stumbling in her direction. Bitsie hoped that by the time she found Braelyn, the priest had recovered enough strength to help the Night Elf.

_If I find Braelyn alive_, the gnome thought, _I promise I'll never pick her pockets again_. _If she dies on me, though, those pretty daggers of hers are fair game._

Bitsie cursed in Gnomish as she tripped over what she suspected was an orc's arm. The foul stench of burnt flesh reached her nose, and the urge to vomit was almost overwhelming. The explosion that had ended the battle had been the result of several fire spells colliding together. In a way, it had saved Bitsie's life: it had sent her careening into a tree, where she was wedged in between two branches and knocked out. The foliage had kept her hidden from her enemies while she regained consciousness and figured out what the hell do next. By the time she'd managed to extricate herself from the tree, the battlefield had been abandoned, and she'd had a plan.

_C'mon, Bitsie, you once made out with a goblin for a dare. Burnt orc arms are way easier to deal with than that..._

The sound of bird wings rustling in a tree caught the rogue's attention. A second later, a soft, plaintive hoot was heard. "Giggle?" Bitsie asked, and a moment later the owl came flying down, landing at her feet. _About frickin' time something useful showed up_, she thought. The owl gave another feeble hoot. "Where's Braelyn?" she asked the bird. "Where's Growly?"

The bird's reaction was immediate; it took flight, cleverly staying within eyeshot at roughly the gnome's height. Bitsie had never been particularly fond of Braelyn's pets, Growly being bigger than she was, but at that moment, Giggle was the best thing that had ever happened to the gnome. Smirking like the awesome rogue she was, Bitsie followed after the owl, swift as shadow, and just as silent.

They found Growly first. He was lying on his side, his fur badly singed, with a long jagged wound along his side. "Hoo, boy," Bitsie sad. "This is bad. I need him to haul Andorien's ass out of here if Odariah can't heal him up. Damn human just couldn't be a holy priest, could she?" Bitsie imitated her friend's accent "'Oh, no Bitsie, healing is sooooo boring! Mind flay is where it's at!'" Giggle let out a hoot that sounded remarkably like laughter before nuzzling Growly with her beak and giving the strange gnome a beseeching glance.

Bitsie rummaged around one of the small pouches attached to her belt, and pulled out one of the few health potions she had left. Before she could talk herself out of wasting a potion on a bear of all things, she pulled the animals' lips open and poured the red liquid down its throat. It took a few seconds, but then a faint gold glow enveloped Growly and his wound began to close up before Bitsie's eyes. With a groggy snarl, he opened his eyes and got to his paws, staggering slightly as he did so. He looked at Bitsie and then padded over, giving her an affectionate bump that set the tiny woman on her backside.

"All right, big guy," Bitsie growled. "Enough of that. Let's go find your master!"

* * *

Braelyn woke up feeling groggy and... moist? A huge slobbery tongue worked its way from her chin to her hairline leaving nothing but grossness in its wake. "Gah, Growly, enough, I'm awake!" She opened her eyes, wincing as even the weak light of a dying afternoon made her head feel like it was being stabbed with an iceshard. Muttering under her breath, Braelyn was about to try sitting upright when she felt tiny hands sliding into her pockets.

"Hands out of my pockets, sneak-thief!" she snapped.

Bitsie jumped nearly a foot in the air, barely containing an alarmed shout. "Oh, nice," she said, glaring at Braelyn. "Here I am, risking life and limb to come save you, and that's the thanks I get. Geeze, lady, I was just looking for a few potions, I'm down to my last two now," she added, and pointed to a discarded vial near the human's left arm.

"Hmmph, a likely story," replied Braelyn, but there was no animosity in her tone, and her eyes were full of gratitude as she reached over and grabbed Bitsie's hand. She gave it an affectionate squeeze before asking, "Have you seen the others? Are they okay?" She groaned as she heaved her self upright, giving Growly and Giggles quick pats.

"They're alive."

"But?" Braelyn prompted.

"They're in a bad way, especially Andorien."

Braelyn's heart froze at her friend's assessment. "Then we need to get out of here, don't we?" She saw Bitsie nod vigorously. "Take me to them."

The walk back to Andorien and Odariah's hiding spot was a relief for Bitsie, but would remain one of the most traumatic experiences of Braelyn's life. In the years to come, she would never quite figure out how she had made that trip without breaking apart because of the carnage surrounding her. To her dying day, the smell of burnt hair would set her dry heaving, and if she needed further reasons why she did not want to join the Alliance forces, there were plenty here, littered around a once beautiful part of Ashenvale. The Alliance hadn't lost this battle, they'd been _annihilated_. Although, Braelyn could not even bring herself to call it a battle, 'mass slaughter' seemed much more appropriate. The fact that one of her friends had survived was miraculous enough, nevermind that they all had.

"Thank the Light!" Odariah said weakly, as Braelyn and Bitsie finally made it to her and Andorien. The priest looked better than she had before, but Andorien looked worse, his skin so pale it was the almost the same colour as Bitsie. "He needs more healing but I'm too weak, do you have any potions?" You could hear the fear in Odariah's voice as she spoke.

"We have about three," Bitsie said, "but we'll need to save them for..."

"No! He won't make it out the door alive if you don't help him now," Odariah cried, kneeling by Andorien's side.

"Bitsie, he looks like he won't survive the hour," Braelyn said, tears gathering in her eyes. The druid's breath was laboured and wheezy, it sounded like his lungs were damaged.

"Please, Bitsie!" Odariah begged. "I'll never forgive myself if he dies! It's my fault this happened... he warned me not to go too deep into the fray, but I didn't listen. I thought I could handle it." She started sobbing. "Darling, darling... "

"Give her the potions, Bitsie," Braelyn demanded, and, seeing the gnome begin to protest, simply picked her up and shook the potions out of her. Odariah pounced on them, and began to pour them down Andorien's throat, one after another.

By the time the last vial was emptied, Andorien's skin was looking much healthier. His breathing had eased a little, his muscles relaxed, and some of his minor wounds had healed over. "Thank the Light, thank the Light," Odariah murmured, kissing his forehead.

"He looks so much better now," Brealyn commented. "After a good night's rest, it should be safe to move him."

Odariah shook her head. "We can't wait until morning, cousin. We need to leave soon, before we lose the light. The Horde will send looters out before they leave."

"Surely, we can..." Braelyn began before Bitsie cut her off.

"You don't want to be the last ones standing on the losing side," the gnome said. "The Horde'll want revenge, and their bosses will want information. There'll be no mercy for us, Braelyn, no quick death." Odariah nodded grimly.

"I heard our parent's talking, 'Lyn," she whispered. "The things they said the Horde do their prisoners..."

Braelyn sighed wearily. "If you think it best, then let's go now. But how?"

"We put Andorien on Growly, and form a tight group," Odariah explained. "Then Bitsie will create a stealth field around us. As long as we stay close together, we should be fine."

"Are you going to have the stamina left for that?" Braelyn asked. "It's a long walk, and for all we know the Horde have people in our base waiting for someone desperate enough to do what we're doing."

"Ain't got much of a choice," Bitsie said.

"Have faith!" Odariah added. Braelyn tried to keep her doubts at bay as she helped the others wrestle Andorien onto Growly, but it was difficult, and her mind was troubled as they began their perilous journey.

* * *

They got lucky. After a slow and nerve-wracking journey through the, thankfully, deserted base, Braelyn and her band of not-so-merry adventurers made it to a Night Elf camp. The elves healed their sudden guests as best they could, and after allowing them to sleep for the night, escorted them to Astranaar at first light. Andorien's injuries were extensive, and it was a fortnight before the Night Elf was judged fit to travel. Odariah was by his side the whole time, more patient and quiet than her cousin had ever seen her.

It was strange to Braelyn that she did not feel jealous of Odariah. A few short weeks ago, as they'd sat around a table in the Slaughtered Lamb planning their adventure, the hunter would have been devastated to see Andorien so much as hold her cousin's hand. Since then, however, she'd seen them do much more than that, and hear their declarations of love... and all she'd felt was happiness, and had considered herself lucky to bear witness to such a beautiful thing. Perhaps their collective near-death experience had made her see the pettiness in an emotion like envy, or maybe she was just mature enough to let it all go, to acknowledge that if you truly care for people, you let them be happy, even if it causes you grief.

_I hope I get to experience that kind of love_, she thought wistfully as she watched the couple in question feeding each other pieces of fruit. Odariah laughed as she smeared a strawberry across Andorien's face. Andorien went to retaliate, but when he reached for his plate, he came up empty-handed. It was Brealyn's turn to laugh as she just barely made out a shadow slinking away from the pair. A suspiciously gnome-like shadow that appeared to be carrying a plate of food.

Braelyn's laugh was cut short by the appearance of a Night Elf woman clad in the tabard of the Silverwing Sentinels. She did not know the elven woman's name, but knew she was the officer in charge of Astranaar and its surrounds. Braelyn did not like her, which was surprising as she generally loved Night Elves. They were peaceful and kind, if a little aloof, and like Braelyn, they found joy in being outdoors, in the wild places of the world. This Night Elf was different, though; she was cold and hard, and had treated Braelyn and her friends with contempt when she'd heard of their experience in Warsong Gulch. She gave the impression that she thought they should have fought to the death there, that their survival was an act of cowardice... or treason.

So strong was her dislike of this woman, that Braelyn didn't even care when she found out that Bitsie was pilfering the Night Elf's belongings.

"You and your friends look to have made a full recovery," she said, eyes unreadable as she studied Braelyn. "Well enough to return to Warsong..."

"No," Braelyn said firmly. The Night Elf looked at her in surprise.

"Excuse me?"

"I said, 'no'," Braelyn repeated, her eyes narrowed, and with her jaw set stubbornly. "We will never again set foot in Warsong Gulch, nor will we take to the hills to wipe out the Orcs up there, unless they attack us first."

The Night Elf commander looked outraged. "Are you saying you're abandoning your duty to King Varian, to the Allia..."

"We were never meant to be there in the first place!" Braelyn yelled, more forcefully than she'd intended. Her outburst drew the attention of everybody within earshot, and Braelyn was relieved to see Andorien and Odariah make their way over. She got the feeling that Bitsie was also near-by. "We let ourselves get talked into going."

"The King's letter said... " the Elf started to say.

"...that I was to be assigned tasks that I felt comfortable with," Braelyn finished for her. Anxiety made her clench her hands into fists at her sides. She did not want to piss off the Sentinels, but she could not, _would not_, send her friends to the front line again. The adventurer's life was not a danger free one, but it was not as brutal as the life of a soldier either "And we are not soldiers."

By this stage, Andorien and her cousin were standing behind Braelyn, and she felt comforted by the Druid's calm presence and Odariah's hand on her shoulder. With a start, the hunter realised that Bitsie was stealthed, and standing defensively in front of her friends, tiny hands hovering over her daggers. The Sentinel's lips were pursed so tightly they'd turned white, and her silver eyes were full of fury.

"Very well," she said harshly. "If you are not going to aid the Sentinels in the field, then I must ask you to leave. You may purchase supplies before you go. I suggest you take your cowardly asses to Darkshore, plenty of menial tasks for you there, _heroes_."

"We are not cowards!" Odariah snapped, and stepped forward, fist raised. Andorien grabbed her hand, whispering a few desperate words in her ear. The priest nodded tersely, and let her arm drop back down. All around them, Silverwing Sentinels stood alert and wary, most angry, but a few appeared sympathetic to the outsiders.

An hour later, Brealyn and her companions strapped their new belongings to the backs of some hired hippogriffs, and headed for Darkshore. The cold wind froze the tears on her face, as the Sentinel Commander's last words echoed on and on in her mind.

It would be a very long journey.

* * *

**AN** - this chapter seemed to take forever, and seems half as long as I thought it would be. But I reached a logical stopping point, so there you go. At least it wasn't such a terrible cliffhanger this time.

Next chapter: Braelyn and co reach Darkshore and begin investigating the troubling appearance of Twilight's Hammer cultists.


	4. Master's Glaive

"Welp, this place sure is cheerful," Bitsie said as she dismounted.

"Better than Duskwood," Braelyn and Odariah said in unison, looking at each other in surprise, before bursting into laughter. It was true, though. While Darkshore _was_ dark and gloomy, wedged between mountains and the Veiled Sea, it was at least possible to tell night from day. Duskwood was a land of perpetual midnight and brooding forests full of ever watchful eyes.

Of course, Duskwood had one advantage over the small Night Elf country; it had not been torn apart by the rage of the Cataclysm. As soon as they'd arrived in Lor'danel a week previously, they'd seen just how bad the damage had been. The village of Auberdine had been destroyed, and everywhere they went the very earth beneath their feet had been torn open, angry elementals pouring out to further torment the land and its inhabitants. The four friends had spent a few days easing what suffering they could, before being sent south, to the Grove of the Ancients.

Brealyn wiped a hand over her tired eyes. She hated flying, never feeling safe being so far off the ground while her stomach churned with queasiness. She'd also been terrified of falling off due to her exhaustion; she had not slept more than three hours at a time since the battle at Warsong Gulch. Every time she drifted off, she relived the moment the Tauren warrior had killed himself with her hand.

Just thinking about it caused Braelyn to suck in a quick, sharp breath. Her stomach protested, and she thought she would be sick. "It is all right, Braelyn," Andorien said, rubbing her back reassuringly. "You will be safe here, look," he added, pointing to an area behind her back.

It was _beautiful_.

As silent and unmovable as the trees they resembled, the Ancients of Darkshore stood nestled among the white marble ruins of what could have been a temple. They were wreathed in vibrant shades of green and purple, the grass at their feet unbelievably lush. With them were a handful of Night Elves, who welcomed Odariah and Bitsie with warm smiles and gentle voices.

"This place is amazing," Braelyn whispered, reaching out to catch an emerald coloured leaf as it almost danced its way to the ground.

"It is," Andorien agreed with a smile. "This place is the most peaceful I've been to in Darkshore."

Braelyn smiled at the druid. "Then for your sake I hope we can stay a while."

"And for yours."

* * *

Sleeping at the Grove felt like being cradled by Azeroth itself. As there was no inn at the Grove, no warm beds to sink into at the end of a long day, they had to sleep outside on the ground. But it did not matter. The grass of the Grove was so soft that not even Bitsie complained about having to sleep rough, and as it was slipping into Summer, the weather was comfortably warm. Above their heads, the stars shone brighter than any candle.

Yet Braelyn was still unable to sleep. She sat quietly on a moss-covered chunk of marble, petting Growly absent-mindedly as she stared into the embers of the camp cooking fire. In the distance she could hear Giggle hoot with delight as she soared the darkness. Behind her, Braelyn heard an odd sound, the sound old trees make when they're being blown about in high winds. A kind of creaking groan. The sound was reassuring; it reminded her of the nights she'd spent camping out in Elwynn Forest with her father, back when she was still allowed to be a little girl. Back before she grew up and was expected to be a great Hero of the Alliance.

Oh, how she missed those days.

"You have a troubled mind, little human," Ornu, the Ancient of Lore said. "Several times have I heard you call out, your cries piercing the darkness." The ground rumbled as he moved near where Braelyn was sitting. Growly opened an eye, and, seeing who it was that made the disturbance, got to his paws, and rubbed against the Ancient's trunk. Onu laughed. "You have loyal pets, hunter. This one is very affectionate, and the little owl sleeps in my branches, chirping to me in her sleep."

"They're the best," Braelyn agreed. "I couldn't survive without them."

"You are stronger than you think, young one." He rumbled again, this time sounding sad, when Braelyn merely shrugged her shoulder as if to say 'meh'. "What torments you so?"

Braelyn hesitated. She had not shared the extent of her insomnia with anyone, not even Odariah, though they could tell from the bags under eyes that she was not as well as she said she was. But before she realised it, the story of what had happened to her and her friends since they'd left Stormwind, burst from her lips in deluge of words. Onu did not interrupt her, just stood silent and listened. When she finished speaking, Onu made a comforting rumble from deep in his body.

"Mortals are such destructive things, even my beloved guardians," he said, looking towards the sleeping forms of the Night Elves. "I cannot judge your actions or the actions of that Tauren warrior, I was not there, but I do know that you must not let it consume you. You have a young soul, a gentle soul, it must be given time to grow."

"So much is happening," Braelyn cried, "so much is _changing_, and I don't know what I'm supposed to do. It's too much, too much!" She covered her mouth with her hand in order to stifle the panicked scream that was fighting to get loose. "What am I doing? What am I _to_ do?"

"In my experience, the only thing you can do is to wait out the storm as best you can," Onu said, pausing as Braelyn sniffled loudly and dug a hanky out of her pocket. "So often we feel the wind lashing our branches, and the water tearing at our roots, and think that the storm is destroying us. Yet the storms pass, and, although we are battered and our leaves are torn from us, we are still standing, and new leaves grow in time. To survive, we plant roots deep in the ground, and learn to bend with the wind, not stand rigid against it. It is then we realise that the storm was not destroying us, it was helping us grow."

Braelyn was silent, before letting out a sigh. "But even the mightiest of trees can fall, if weakened."

"_All_ trees fall eventually, little one, in the natural order of things."

"I don't think this tree is strong enough to grow much taller,' Braelyn whispered, gesturing to herself.

"But how do you know how strong you are, if you do not let your strength be tested?" He saw Braelyn begin to protest. "One strong wind does not a storm make."

With that the Ancient began plodding slowly back to the sides of his brethren, effectively ending the conversation. All Braelyn could do was stretch out on the grass next to Growly, and pray for a dreamless sleep.

She slept like the dead until well past dawn.

* * *

The next morning Braelyn woke up feeling better than she had in weeks, and even though she could tell from all the noise that her friends were already up and ready to go, she gave herself the luxury of a little sleep in. The fact that Bisie and/or Odariah were not pouring water in her ears in an attempt to get her out of bed, told Braelyn that she must have been looking worse than she thought.

As she was drinking some strange herbal tisane of the Elves for breakfast, she decided to ask Onu if he needed help with anything. It would be her way of saying 'thankyou' for his kind advice the night before.

"Onu," she said, slapping Bitsie's hand as the gnome attempted to steal Braelyn's apple, "I really enjoyed our conversation last night. Is their any way I could help you in return? Perhaps run some messages? Collect a hundred corrupted elderberries? Investigate some creepy old ruins and lay some tortured spirits to rest?"

"It is good to see you in such high spirits, young one," the Ancient said, and Braelyn swore she could hear laughter in his rumbly voice. "I do indeed require your assistance. But first you must sit and enjoy the morning with your friends. I will see you take delight in their company before sending you off to deal with the darkness in this world."

Before Braelyn could compose a suitable response, Growly surprised them all by grabbing Bitsie's collar in his mouth and running around the Grove. Braelyn erupted into laughter at the sight of her friend's little legs kicking helplessly in the air as her pet gamboled about. The rogue let out a high-pitched squeal before swearing at the bear in every language she knew.

"Braelyyyyyyyyyyyn!"

* * *

"That is the creepiest looking thing I have ever seen," Odariah declared, staring at the group's destination, "and it's giving off some pretty awful energy." Andorien put his hand on her shoulder, and nodded his head.

Braelyn had been joking when she suggested going to investigate some creepy ruins, but judging by the sight that lay before her, she'd been right on the money. Only it wasn't so much a ruin, but a skeleton. The skeleton of some gigantic monster with a snail-shell like head, a trunk, and two long, _long _tusks.

"Hate to get on the bad side of whoever wielded that thing," Bitsie muttered, staring at the enormous adamantite glaive jutting out of the skeleton thing's skull. Her friends could only murmur in agreement.

"My people consider this a sacred place," Andorien said, awe-struck, "because only a God could have wielded a weapon of that size."

Onu had ask them to come to the Master's Glaive to investigate why Twilight's Hammer cultists were excavating the site. The skeleton, he said, was the body of an "old, old lord of the earth." Braelyn already knew that the cultists were trouble before they even arrived at the Glaive, because Twilight's Hammer were always up to no good, even without access to the bodies of Old Gods. Sneaking through the dig-site and spying on the cultists only confirmed her opinion.

The cultists called the skeleton Soggoth the Slitherer, and it used to be a minion of the Old Gods. They thought that if they removed the glaive from the skeleton's skull, the Slitherer would be brought back to life. Presumably to wreak havok and destroy the world, thereby making all the cultists' dreams come true. Braelyn and her companions had done their best to thin the Twilight's Hammer numbers, but there were just too many of them for such a small group to deal with on their own. The Silverwing Sentinels would have to clear the rest out.

"Listen," Braelyn whispered, "I think we've done all we can here. Let me just lay down a few traps, and we''ll head back the Grove."

"Best. Idea. Ever," Bitsie said. "This place gives me the heebie-jeebies."

Braelyn never carried very many traps with her as they were expensive, and took up a lot of space in her packs. As a result, it only took her a few minutes to set them out, being extra careful not to touch the poisonous barbs attached to them. As she carefully backed away, she heard footsteps approaching. She looked up at her friends in alarm. Bitsie immediately stealthed, while Odariah went for her staff. Braelyn grabbed her bow, quickly stringing an arrow, and searching for her mark. She noticed that Andorien had taken a place by his girlfriend's side. She nodded at him and moved back, gesturing for them to do the same. If whoever was approaching wanted to harm them, they'd have to make their way through a barrage of ranged damage, and Braelyn's traps, all while dodging Growly and Bitsie.

As the footsteps got louder, Braelyn felt the temperature around her plummet. Goosebumps formed along her skin, even beneath the new leather armor she'd bought in Lor'danel. A cold like that could only mean that a Death Knight was about. Braelyn was troubled; even if the death knight was Alliance or Ebon Blade, it was no guarantee that he'd be friendly. Even free from the Lich King's control, they seemed to have their own agenda. Braelyn didn't hate the death knights, but she couldn't quite bring herself to trust them either.

The death knight was a Blood Elf, and the blood-red tabard of the Horde was stretched tight across his imposing plate armor. By his side was an orc woman, a warrior by the look of her, and a goblin mage. They stopped as soon as they saw Braelyn and the others. In a matter of seconds, they too were armed, the Orc muttering something under breath. _ Probably an insult about my mother_, Braelyn thought. She saw Odariah about to switch into her shadow form, and hissed at her to stop.

"Do you speak Common?" she asked the death knight, who looked to be the leader of the Horde group.

"I do," he replied in that freaky dual-toned voice that all death knights have. Braelyn made a show of lowering her bow, just a little, which caused the Blood Elf to lift a long, elegant eyebrow in surprise.

"Braelyn!" Odariah hissed. "What are you doing?" Braelyn ignored her, keeping her eye on the Elf in front of her. A hunter should never take her eyes off her mark. Ever.

"Behind us are a group of people who do not care about factions or race. They care only for the total annihilation of all life on Azeroth. Now, you can put aside any prejudices you may have about the Alliance, and help_ us _to annihilate_ them_, or you can let us pass unhindered, so that we may alert the authorities. We do want to waste time fighting you."

The death knight stared at her for a few moments before laughing. Braelyn shivered. Even though the elf seemed genuinely amused, it still sounded cold and harsh. "It has been a long time since I have met such a naive soul," he said, cruel lips curling up in a smirk. "Do not fret, Sweetheart, we will take care of the big, bad cultists, but, as for you, I'm loath to say goodbye without a proper introduction first."

He raised his hand, as if holding it out for Braelyn to take, but before she could do anything, Odariah hit him with a mind blast. The death knight snarled as he staggered backwards, but quickly regained his composure. He drew his runed greatsword. Braelyn quickly raised her bow and used a binding arrow to prevent the warrior from charging Odariah and Andorien. The mage had summoned an elemental to aid him, but it flickered out of existence as the mage howled and slumped to the ground, blood pouring out of two nasty wounds in his back.

"That'll teach ya for threatening my friends!' Bitsie said as she flipped backwards, landing in front of Andorien. Taking advantage of the Horde's surprise, Braelyn let out a sharp whistle. With a screech, Giggle came racing down out of the sky and began clawing at the Orcs face. She felt a brief flash of triumph, but it was cut short by an agonised shriek that suddenly faded into a strange, choking sound.

"Bitsie!" Braelyn screamed as the gnome was hoisted into the air, her legs jerking desperately as she tried to pry the purple ring of energy from her neck. Her face was getting redder, while her lips began to turn blue. "Let her go!"

But the death knight did not let the rogue go. Instead, he flicked his wrist, causing Bitsie to fly through the air to the blood elf's hand, which he wrapped around the rogue's throat. A pair of bright blue eyes turned to Braelyn, mocking her and Andorien as the Druid began to cast some heals on the Gnome. His gaze held her in its sway, so powerfully that Braelyn barely heard Giggle scream as the Orc slammed the owl away with her shield. She saw the man raise his sword, a smirk playing across his face.

"So typical of Alliance hypocrites," he said. "Your invitation is declined."

He then ran Bitsie through.

* * *

Screaming.

Braelyn was screaming as she saw her friend's fragile little body jerk before it fell from the death knight's blade in a river of blood. Odariah was screaming, too, but she was screaming obscenities as she mind flayed the orc warrior. Andorien was focused only on Bitsie, trying to force life back where it had once been.

But it was no use. The death knight's blade had practically torn their beloved friend in two.

"How could you?!" Braelyn howled, and began firing at the blood elf, starting with a serpent sting. With a growl of rage her bear charged forward, tackling the warrior to her knees and clamping his jaw around her neck. Braelyn's shot went wide, and it took all her effort to get another arrow ready to go. By then, the death knight had begun closing to mêlée range, making it harder for her to find the chinks in his armor. Odariah cast a shield around Braelyn as the hunter began to back-up.

The was a sudden snap as Andorien accidentally set off one of Braelyn's traps. He groaned as he was thrown backwards into a rock, head slamming against the hard surface. Odariah gasped as one of the poisonous darts pierced the skin just above the high neck of her robes. She sank to her knees as nausea swiftly incapacitated her. Braelyn felt a dart lodge in one of her leather gauntlets, but, thankfully, it did not go all the way through.

"It's just you and me now, Sweetheart," the death knight said, sauntering towards her.

"And him," Braelyn replied as Growly rammed the elf from behind, causing him to fall forward.

"Well, you know what they say about three being a crowd," he said, kicking out at the bear with his boot. Growly whined as he was kicked in the face, and sank down, paws over his head. Braelyn tore forward, trying to mend her pet as she did so, but she was suddenly hoisted into the air. Her hands went to her neck, where it felt like a band of ice was squeezing the life out of her. Her legs jerked, and tears of pain gathered in her eyes. She tried desperately to breathe, but no oxygen made it to her lungs.

She screamed silently as she was suddenly yanked backwards. She thought of Bitsie, and fear of suffering the same fate made her panic more, her whole body now thrashing within the cold embrace that held her. She barely even felt the pain of her hand breaking as it collided with a pauldron. "Shhhh," the death knight crooned, "stop struggling and I'll let you go."

But Braelyn did not believe him. He eased the death grip, allowing a small trickle of sweet air to flow into her lungs. "Now, if you're a good little hostage, I may even let your friends live," the honeyed voice continued.

Her eyes sought out the forms of her companions. She didn't want to leave them, didn't want to leave Bitsie's body here in this horrible place, but she couldn't bear the thought of losing them all. She tried to force her body to relax, but was suddenly dropped to the ground as ice shards began raining down from the sky. She felt one slam into her, and blood began to well around the icicle now lodged deeply in her thigh. She didn't have the energy to scream as her brain finally registered the pain.

Nor could she make the effort to be afraid as she saw three Twilight Cultists step out of the shadows.

* * *

**AN** - Wanda, I am so, so sorry.

Next chapter: Braelyn survives, but how? And Rommath finally, finally makes his appearance. Probably.


	5. Death Grip is the new Sap

_I keep forgetting about the obligatory disclaimer, but I'm sure we're all smart enough to know that I don't own Warcraft. I only own the OCs._

* * *

Braelyn Hawke hurt _everywhere._

There was an intense throbbing where an ice shard had impaled her leg, her neck felt like it was on fire, her hand felt like it was probably broken, and even her eyelashes hurt when they finally flickered open. Her throat burned as she groaned, and it was a while before she remembered all that had happened to her. Tears slid down her cheeks as she began the slow process of standing. She ended up hunched over like a troll as it was just too painful to straighten her spine.

The hunter realised that many hours had passed since the fight as it was now night-time. The moons were full tonight, and the White Lady shone so brightly that Braelyn was able to see just as well as if it had been noon. She swayed slightly as she searched for friends and pets. She couldn't see Growly anywhere and hoped that he had gone to get help or to find safety. She spotted Giggle's prone form lying next to the body of the Orc warrior. She could tell that the owl was dead, and grief welled in her heart. "Oh, Giggle, you poor thing," she croaked. "You didn't deserve this."

Braelyn's eyes drifted quickly past the area where Bitsie lay in a pool of her own blood. She just couldn't deal with the rogue's death now; if she stopped to mourn her friend, she'd never get going again, never leave the Master's Glaive. Instead she tried to move forward, to where she thought Andorien and Odariah were. She could see their weapons lying on the ground, but her friends were nowhere in sight, which gave her hope that they'd survived. With some surprise she noticed the bodies of the three cultists that had attacked her and the death knight lying in a heap near a tree stump. They were cut to pieces, suggesting that the Blood Elf had taken care of them

The death knight, however, was nowhere to be seen. She took a tentative step forward, scanning the area for threats.

"Arrrgh!" she screamed as white-hot agony tore through her left leg. It was so painful that her vision blurred and she fell over, doing further damage to her battered body. Her breath came in sharp, rugged gasps, and she tried to concentrate on evening it out in order to distract herself from the pain. After a few minutes, she dug her fingers into the cold earth and pushed herself upwards.

This time the pain was worse, and it took all her strength to stay conscious. She pushed her sweaty brow on the ground and cried out in frustration. She needed to move, to get help, if she were to make it out alive.

Braelyn was about to make a third attempt, when warm hands grasped her around the waist. She would've screamed, had she the energy. "Shhh," Andorien whispered weakly, "it's just me."

"Andorien?" Braelyn asked, shocked. "Are you real or a hallucination?" She tried to muffle her cries as the druid swung her up into his arms.

Andorien did not look well; dried blood marred his handsome face, and she could see a large lump on the side of his head, no doubt a result of his collision with the boulder. His eyes narrowed in concentration, and his muscles shook with the effort it took to carry Braelyn.

"Painfully real," he replied. "I woke up first, found us some shelter. Odariah's there already... she's still unconscious," he added in obvious distress. "I think I may have passed out again. It seems later than when I found her. Thank Elune it's so light tonight, or else I'd never have found you both, or the cave."

The cave was nestled into the side of a hill, not far from where their latest disastrous battle had taken place. It was small, but it would do. Andorien placed Braelyn on the ground next to her best friend as gently as he could. He paused to catch his breath before he said, "You'll need to huddle together for warmth while I fetch Bitsie... Bitsie's body. I'm not leaving her out there as carrion."

"Be careful," Braelyn said, putting her arms around Odariah. Andorien nodded numbly, then dragged himself out of the cave.

Braelyn looked down at her friend as the priest gave a soft moan. "Andorien?" she asked groggily.

"It's me, 'Riah," Braelyn whispered, too weary to even pat her cousin on the arm.

"Where... An... dorien?"

"He's okay. He went to get Bitsie," Braelyn said, her voice wavering as she mentioned their friend.

"Bit... sie," Odariah sobbed, body shaking, and Braelyn started to cry, too. Neither of them stopped until sleep overcame them.

* * *

Braelyn woke up when the first light of dawn finally penetrated the darkness of the cave. Even though she still hurt in more places than she thought her body possessed, she felt slightly better than she had the night before. A quick look at Andorien's gaunt face told her that he had expended some of the last of his strength on healing her and Odariah, who was curled around her boyfriend as if to protect him. She pulled herself upright and put some weight on her injured leg. It still hurt like hell, but she was able to walk, albeit it slowly.

"What are you doing, Braelyn?" Andorien asked, fatigue bleeding from every word, as Braelyn limped over to the bags that the Night Elf must have salvaged the night before. The hunter looked at him, biting her lower lip.

"One of us has to get help," she said, "and you need to stay with Odariah," she added when Andorien began to protest. "I'm the least injured, Andorien. Besides, it was me who got us into this mess in the first place."

"It's not your fault," Andorien mumbled. "It's just how life works." Braelyn said nothing as she attached a water bottle to her belt, not wanting to start a fight. Ever since she'd woken up, she'd been unable to shake the feeling that the misery was not yet over. She was afraid that she was not going to see her friends again, and didn't want their last conversation to be an angry one. She made her way to the cave's entrance, pausing to look back at Andorien and Odariah.

"Hey, guys, listen," she said, "I want you to do something for me."

"What is it?" Odariah asked sleepily, face buried in Andorien's chest.

"Promise me that whatever happens, you won't join the Alliance."

"What sort of request is that?" Odariah demanded. "Why would we join the Alliance after what went down at Warsong?"

"To get revenge," Braelyn replied, "for Bitsie's death or... or something." Seeing her friends swap confused looks, she added, "Please, just do it. For my peace of mind."

"Fine, I promise," Odariah said in a tone of voice that implied Braelyn was crazy, "no soldier's life for me."

"By Elune's grace, I promise that I will honour your wish," Andorien swore. Braelyn nodded, mind eased somewhat.

"I'll be as quick as I can," she said.

"Stay safe, Braelyn," Odariah warned. "Those crazy bastards could still be out there."

Braelyn nodded, and smiled at her cousin briefly, before heading out into the dawn.

It would be a long time before they saw each other again.

* * *

Three hours later, Braelyn hadn't made much progress at all. Even with the bit of healing Andorien had given her overnight, she was still very weak and in pain. A dramatic increase in her body temperature, and the rapid onset of chills, indicated that the wound on her leg had become infected. Her head pounded, and she was having to take frequent rests. Each time, it got harder and harder to get moving again.

She wiped a shaking hand across her forehead, grimacing when she felt how hot she was. Her eyes were beginning to ache, and her vision was blurred to the point where she could only just make out the shape of things around her. Fortunately, she had not run into any cultists, or wild animals. Just negotiating the environment was difficult enough, the cataclysm having wrought so much destruction in Darkshore. Trails and paved paths had been split in two, and flat areas of ground were now uneven and treacherous to walk over.

When she had left the cave, she was sure she had been heading back towards the Grove of the Ancients. But now... now she was ashamed to admit that she was lost, the fever and the many detours she'd had to take to avoid the broken terrain combining to leave her disoriented and lost. "Some hunter I am," she muttered. "Look at me, master of my domain!"

Braelyn paused to take a swig from her water skin, grunting in frustration as she discovered it was empty. _Damn it!_ In a fit of piqué, she threw the offending item as far as she could, which in her weakend state wasn't far at all. She was about to start crying again when she realised that the water skin had not landed on grass or dirt. Instead, it sounded as if it had landed on stone. She squinted, and almost laughed when she made out the worn cobbles of a road. With a burst of determination, she hauled herself forward, knowing that where there was a road, there were people. Or, at the very least, signposts.

* * *

"Have I been walking in circles?" Braelyn asked herself, leaning against the signpost she was sure she'd passed three times already. Her thirst was maddening and she knew that she was in dire trouble. It was almost impossible for her walk, and she'd taken to crawling in order to achieve any progress. The fever was taking away her ability to think coherently, and her vision was almost totally impaired. She took a deep breath, and ended up coughing so hard she thought she'd punctured a lung. A wave of dizziness overcame her, and before she knew it, she was unconscious again.

When she came to, Braelyn could not move. She knew that she was not paralyzed, just so mentally and physically exhausted that her body just didn't have the energy for movement. Her breathing was short and shallow, and she felt flies crawling all over her skin.

She didn't care.

_So this is dying_, she mused. She found herself thinking of the times when her father had nursed her back to health when she'd been ill as a child. He had always sung to her, badly out of tune, and made her chicken soup. She longed to feel that comfort again, but at the same time felt an unexpected rush of bitterness at her parents. She hoped that when they got her body back, they felt guilty at what they had done.

Braelyn hummed to herself, some terribly tawdry ditty she'd overheard the Goblins singing in Booty Bay. She was less hot than before, and Braelyn hoped that she was finally on her way out. She was sick of fighting for every breath, sick of feeling a failure for not getting help for her friends. The cold increased and she smiled softly... until she heard the sounds of footsteps approaching.

Braelyn couldn't open her eyes, and was unsure if she wanted to. An hour ago the sound of someone approaching would have made her weep in relief, but now her stomach clenched in fear as she realised that the lessening of her fever had nothing to do with dying, and everything to do with the proximity of a death knight.

"Well, well," a familiar voice drawled, "isn't this a pleasant surprise?" Braelyn winced as she felt the death knight kneel by her body, gauntleted fingers caressing her face. "I thought the Twilight's Hammer had killed you," he added, frowning when Braelyn did not open her eyes.

"Don't you... dare death... grip me again," she whispered. He laughed, the mocking sound grating on her nerves.

"I don't need to," he replied, "death has a pretty tight hold on you already." There was a slight pause before Braelyn felt cold arms slide under her body and lift her up. She cried out us pain racked her body.

_How much more do I have to endure?_

"Just kill me," she said, too proud, even in her agony, to beg. The death knight ignored her, choosing to tuck Braelyn's head under his chin. His heavy plate armor was even less comfortable than the stone she'd been lying on. He patted her back as if comforting a child, as he let out a sharp whistle. There was a whinny, and Braelyn heard a horse gallop up to them.

"Don't worry, Sweetheart, I'll take care of you," her unwanted rescuer said, as he hefted both himself and Braelyn onto his mount. The mount was just as cold as its owner, and Braelyn realised it was one of those creepy skeleton horses like the Forsaken rode around on. She tried to protet, but with a quick pinch at some nerves on her neck, the death knight knocked her out.

* * *

_I'm going to end up with permanent brain damage the way this is going,_ Braelyn thought grogily as she regained consciousness again. The death knight must have found her a healer, because when she came to her senses, she was pain-free and feeling fine, except for a few minor aches and pains, and the mother of all thirsts. She didn't know exactly where she was, but she suspected that she was either in the ruins of Auberdine, or on said village's outskirts. The building was of Night Elven design, but was completely trashed. Part of the roof was missing, the floor was warped and uneven, and she was pretty sure she'd just seen a raging earth elemental float past a crack in the wall.

Not exactly comforting.

She put up with the thirst as long as she could, revelling in the soft warmth of a pile of blankets, not quite ready to face reality. Eventually though, the need to drink became too great, and she slid the blankets off and stood up. Only to dive back under them when she saw she wasn't alone.

"By the Light!" she screamed, staring out at the ghoul that was standing by the wall. To her surprise, it seemed just as alarmed as she was. It pressed itself again the stone, and eyed the doorway longingly.

"Pretty lady don't be screaming at Mangle," it said in low, growly voice. "Mangle only here 'cause Lethallan said to."

"You... your name is Mangle?" Braelyn asked. "And you're a ghoul?"

"Yes, yes, Mangle be ghoul. Mangle be best ghoul."

"Is Lethallan the death knight that kidnapped me?" Mangle frowned, which Braelyn considered bizarre. _Wow, the Scourge can feel_, she thought.

"Lethallan no kidnap pretty lady, he saved pretty lady. Lethallan best death knight," the ghoul said, indignant and proud all at once.

"I'm sure he is," Braelyn said, eyeing the ghoul warily as it stepped forward.

"Pretty lady want drink? Mangle has water."

"I'd love a drink," Braelyn replied, sitting up and reaching out to take the large mug Mangle held out to her. She almost laughed as the ghoul placed the mug in her hand and then pressed itself back into the wall, almost as if it were scared of her. "My name is Braelyn, by the way," she added before chugging the water down. She had never tasted anything so wonderful before in her life. She was about to ask for more when the door was flung open dramatically.

Braelyn gave a very girly squeak and fell on her arse as Lethallan strode in. He laughed at her reaction. "So, the sleeping beauty awakes," he said. Braelyn glared at him.

"Where am I and what the bloody hell do you think you're doing?"

"You're in Auberdine, Sweetheart," Lethallan said, eyes sparking with glee. "I thought it best to heal you up a bit."

"Why?" Braelyn asked, eye's narrowing in suspicion.

"Well, back at the Glaive, I thought the cultists had killed you, so didn't think much of you after I left," he said dismissively. "Then when I found you out on the road, I couldn't help but admire your fortitude, your stubborn determination to stay alive. So I played the knight-in-shining-armor and saved you." He grinned mockingly. "I figure that if _I_ could be moved to save you, than those noble heroes of the Alliance will fall all over themselves to try to save you from the grasp of a wicked Horde death knight... and I do so love cutting those self-righteous fools down."

Braelyn couldn't believe what she was hearing. "You... you... what? I'm not going to let you d..."

"Of course you are," the death knight said, cold and stern once more. "What choice do you have? You're weaponless, and we all know how useless hunters are without their pets." Brealyn gasped,insulted, but Lethallan ignored her. "Besides, you don't even have any clothes on." He grinned and gestured at her. Braelyn looked down at herself, and blushed furiously with equal parts rage and embarrassment, as she saw she was clad only in her undies. She yanked her blankets up to her chin, and glared at the undead blood elf.

"How dare you?!"

"Calm down, it's nothing I haven't seen before, Sweetheart."

"Don't call me sweetheart," Braelyn grumbled, feeling shame and despair building up inside her. She really wished she could go home, even if it meant being labeled a disgrace.

"Well, what should I call you then?" He demanded. Braelyn opened her mouth to reply, but then slammed her jaws shut. The last thing she needed was this bastard finding out who her parents were. He'd probably use her to force them into a duel, and while she knew her parents were both pretty badass, they had become a little rusty in their retirement. She turned her head to the side and buried it the fold of her blanket.

The death knight scoffed. "Now you decide to quit talking?"

"Mangle knows pretty lady's name," the ghoul suddenly said, quivering with excitement at the idea of being helpful. Braelyn groaned. "Pretty lady called Braelyn, pretty lady said so."

"Is there a surname to go with that?" Braelyn glared at him. "I'll take that as a 'no'. Nevermind, I'll get it out of you eventually. My name is Lethallan Dawnbreaker," he added with a teasing bow, and Braelyn decided that she had liked death knights more when she thought they were all emotionless, soulless bastards. He pointed to a mageweave bag tucked into a corner.

"Get dressed, Braelyn. We'll need to be moving soon."

Braelyn stayed tucked up in her in blankets until she was sure Lethallan and Mangle were gone. She opened the bag to discover a linen cloak, clean underwear, a brush, and a rather pretty blue silk dress. With dismay, she noticed that there were no shoes, and no gloves... nothing Lethallan provided would offer any protection should Braelyn decide to make a run for it.

As she pulled on her new outfit and gathered her light brown hair into a messy bun, Braelyn stewed over her predicament. She decided that she was not going to allow Lethallan to use her to kill more people like he'd murdered Bitsie. She would rather die from hypothermia or being mauled by a bear while running away from him, than be kept safe in his company.

She walked over to where one of the building's windows had been blown out. The wood around it was badly damaged and Braelyn was able to pull a significant part of it away; enough for her to consider making a jump for it. The ground below was strewn with rocks, and elementals_ were_ moving around the destroyed village, but Braelyn was determined. Taking a deep breath, she thought fondly of her friends and said a quick prayer before she ran and jumped.

She'd almost hit the ground, when Lethallan death gripped her, and hauled her back inside, laughing as he did so.

_Damn death knights_.

* * *

Lethallan had thought that bringing Braelyn to the Ebon Hold with him was a good idea; unfortunately for him, Darion Mograine did not. Braelyn could hear the two death knights arguing from where she sat huddled in a tight ball, shivering her arse off. She had wrapped her cloak around her body as tightly as she could and tucked her hands and feet inside, her face buried in her knees. Mangle had tried to keep her warm by hugging her, but, seeing as he was undead, it kind of made things worse.

Every few minutes, Braelyn would raise her head to search wildly for an Alliance death knight. She'd only seen one, a dwarf, who'd promptly alerted Highlord Mograine of her presence. She'd not come back, so Braelyn could only assume that the dwarven death knight had been less concerned with the human's well-being, than with being present as her boss tore strips off Lethallan. Every other death knight she'd noticed had been Horde, so Braelyn did her best to avoid _their_ attention.

She heard more shouting, and what sounded like someone being thrown into a wall. A few hours ago, Braelyn would have taken joy in the idea of Lethallan smashing into stone, but a place like Ebon Hold did not encourage feelings of happiness or hope. Within minutes of her arrival at this miserable place, she'd begun to feel whatever emotional strength she had left bleed out of her. Her stubborn belief that she'd get away from the death knight and be reunited with her friends and family fell away, leaving nothing but grief and despair in its wake, and the colder it got, the worse Braelyn felt.

Braelyn snapped out of her stupor as a deafening roar sounded throughout the hold. "I don't care, Dawnbreaker, just take the poor girl home!"

Lethallan stormed out of Mograine's office, stalking over to Braelyn and grabbing her by the arm roughly. "Come with me!" he snarled, dragging her towards what looked like some sort of demonic forge. He was muttering under his breath angrily, even as he concentrated on enchanting his weapon. He was clearly furious at having his game brought to an end so abruptly. Braelyn, lost in her fog of negativity, knew she should be smug about that, but was too exhausted to do do.

She would not have been smug for long anyway; by the time his enchantments were finished, Lethallan had figured out a way to get around Mograine's order. _I'll take the poor girl home all right, Darion_, he thought. _ It's just a shame you didn't specify __**whose**__ home to take her to._"

* * *

Braelyn felt as if she'd been flung from Winterspring straight into Tanaris. She was freezing cold one moment, the next she was awash with warmth, both physical and emotional. She still felt grieved, and angry, but she was no longer trapped by negative thoughts. Her mind felt clearer, and she was more aware of her surroundings. Which was a problem, as she suddenly realised just how much trouble she was in.

Braelyn looked around at the sea of faces around her; some were curious, others were startled, but most were hostile. _Very_ hostile. "I am going to _die_," she declared, staring at Lethallan in disbelief. He simply laughed, and spread his arms out wide.

"Welcome to Silvermoon, Sweetheart."

* * *

**AN** - I solemnly swear that Rommath will be in the next chapter. For real this time.

Also, I've made a new drinking game; everytime Braelyn loses consciousness, take a shot. Unless you're underage, in which case, eat a handful of sugar or something.

Next chapter: Rommath Rommath Rommath.


	6. Run like you know where you're going

"Are you out of your mind?" Braelyn demanded, staring at Lethallan in disbelief. "You can't bring me to Silvermoon!"

"I believe that I just did," the death kinght grinned smugly. "Really, I don't see what the problem is," he added, waving a hand nonchalantly.

"I'm a human! Silvermoon is full of Blood Elves!" Braelyn replied, rolling her eyes as Lethallan did not seem perturbed in the slightest. "Humans, blood elves... never the twain shall meet..."

"Stop being so melodramatic!" Lethallan commanded. "I have a house here, you'll love it. Plus, we will not be staying for too long at any given time. Alliance do-gooders to smite, remember?"

The rational part of Braelyn's mind told her that she was in no position to argue with her captor; she was trapped in an enemy stronghold with no weapons, no armor, and no money. Hell, she still didn't even have any shoes. There was nothing about her current situation that suggested a happy ending was in store for her, and that was even if she acted the way Lethallan wanted her to. Kicking up a fuss was only going to make things that much worse for her.

The rest of Braelyn, however, was done with being rational. After all that she had been through, the battle at Warsong Gulch, Bitsie's death, the time spent at Ebon Hold, and the long journey to Silvermoon, which involved a tense few minutes at Orgrimmar waiting for a Zepplin to the Eastern Kingdoms, followed by being harassed by the world's stinkiest Troll all the way to the Tirisfal Glades, it was a wonder she was not screaming like a crazy person.

She had seen the dusky twilight skies of Lordaeron and hoped that the death knight was taking her to the sanctuary of the Eastern Plaguelands and the Argent Crusade. But it was not the case; a Forsaken mage friend of Lethallan's had opened them a portal to the last place Braelyn had ever expected to go.

And she was not happy about it.

Folding her arms across her chest, Braelyn sat herself down on the white paved street, and stared defiantly at Lethallan. He looked confused. "I am not going anywhere with you," she said.

"Yes, you are," the death knight said. "What else are you going to do?"

_I have no idea._

"Stay here until someone decides to kill me or something," Braelyn said with a casual shrug, although on the inside she was starting to panic. There were no soldiers or guardsmen here. Lethallan's friend had been very discreet, porting them into a quiet part of the city.

Lethallan laughed. "Stop being such a child," he said, holding out his hand for Braelyn to take. The human merely turned her head away, nose in the air. "Don't be foolish."

"Don't be such a bastard," Braelyn retorted, glaring at a few Blood Elves that were milling around looking scandalised. _Why haven't they called the guards? _

With that, Lethallan's remaining 'good' mood evaporated, and he reached down and roughly grabbed Braelyn's upper arm. He attempted to pull her upright, but she resisted with all the strength she had left. The death knight swore in Thalassian as she started to flail her arms and legs around. He let out a feral growl and slapped Braelyn across her cheek with a hand still encased in a plate gauntlet.

Braelyn cried out as Lethallan's blow sent her reeling backwards. Her hands collided with the pavement, and she felt the sting of skin breaking. Pain bloomed across her cheek, and she could feel a small trickle of blood making its way down her face. She was vaguely aware of the angry muttering of the small group of onlookers, but did not know whether they were angry at her or at Lethallan. She bit her lips as tears welled up in her eyes.

She stared at the footpath for a moment before turning her face towards her attacker. She cupped her cheek in her hand and winced, not just at the pain, but also at the furious look Lethallan was giving her. For this first time since her ordeal began, she could honestly say she was terrified of him. The temperature had dropped several degrees, and his eyes glowed with malicious fury. Braelyn let out an involuntary whimper and began to push herself backwards along the ground. She did not get far before Lethallan caught up with her. He reached down again, this time winding his fingers around her long pony tail.

"Don't touch me!" she yelled.

"You will learn to do as you are told," he hissed, and yanked her forward.

All Braelyn could do was scream as she was dragged by her hair through the streets of Silvermoon.

* * *

Halduron Brightwing sighed in relief as he made his way along the Walk of Elders. It was a beautiful day, and he was glad to finally be home after a trip to Pandaria to consult with Aethas Sunreaver about his work on the Isle of Thunder. He made the most of the weather and his remaining free time by stopping to talk to Silvermoon's resident shaman and druid trainers, Gez'li and Herene Plainwalker. He had just exchanged the usual pleasantries, when a woman's terrified scream rent the air.

"Guards!" Halduron called as he made his way towards Murder Row, where the sound had come from. He was startled when the scream faded, replaced with pleas for help... in Common.

A few seconds later, a Death Knight came arround the corner. His ghoul trotted alongside him, obviously agitated about something. The undead Blood Elf looked furious, lips twisted in a snarl, and with one hand he was dragging something along the ground...

"By the Earthmother, that's a Human!" Harene exclaimed, pointing at the hysterical woman doing her best to free herself from the death knight's hold. Halduron was furious; not just because the death knight had brought a potential enemy into their city, but also because of the state the human was in. The woman's face was twisted in fear, pain, and anger as she slapped and pulled at the fingers wrapped in her hair. There was a nasty looking wound on her cheek, and her bare feet, kicking against the pavement, were dirty and beginning to bleed. She was clad in what looked as if it had once been a pretty blue dress. It was stained and dirty, too, and only the thin linen cloak she wore over it protected the garment from disintegrating as the human girl was pulled along the ground.

"He's going to kill me!" She called out desperately.

"Halt!" Halduron called as he blocked the death knight's path. For a moment he thought that the death knight would attack him in his fury, but then he recognised who Halduron was and came to a stop.

"Ranger-General," Lethallan said by way of greeting, and moved as if to keep going. Halduron remained where he was.

"You bought a human into the city?" he asked.

"Just a slave I captured for myself in Darkshore," the death Knight replied. "I thought I'd bring her home and get her cleaned up, before heading back out into the world."

Halduron was disturbed by how quickly the elf went from enraged to calm and cool, although he did notice that the death knight maintained his tight grip on the young woman. "I don't think so," he said firmly. "We do not condone slavery, as well you know, so let the girl go, and then leave before I decide to arrest you for disturbing the peace."

"She is too valuable for me to just let go," Lethallan growled in warning, summoning a death gate. "And as a Knight of the Ebon Blade, I do not answer to your authority."

Halduron drew himself up to his full height and glared at the death knight. "While you are in our city, you follow our rules." He looked at the human, who was staring at the death gate as if it represented all her nightmares come to life. Despite her current state of distress, it was obvious to him that she was no civilian accidentally caught up in the war. He could see the trauma of the battlefield in her eyes, see that her build was that of a fighter, not a housewife or barmaid. If his suspicions were correct, then the young woman could prove more useful to him than to the death knight.

Besides, he was a sucker for a damsel in distress.

The death kinght did not seem at all intimidated by the Ranger-General. Instead he shrugged his shoulder, and turned towards the death gate. "Come along, Sweetheart, time to go," he said in Common. The woman started screaming again, kicking her legs furiously.

"Wait!" Halduron said. "How about we make some sort of deal?"

"And what could you possibly have to tempt me with?" scoffed Lethallan.

"Name your price."

The death knight laughed. "She is a very remarkable woman," he said. "It would take a lot to convince me to part with her."

"Name. Your. Price," Halduron repeated through clenched teeth, sorely tempted to just stab the other elf.

"Very well," Lethallan laughed, before raising a hand to his chin in mock thoughtfulness. "Hmmm, I couldn't possible let her go for any less than..."

* * *

People always assumed that because Braelyn was a hunter, she was not interested in academic pursuits. Because of this, most of her acquaintances were unaware that she was, in fact, fascinated with foreign languages. This fascination led to her becoming fluent in several of Azeroth's major languages, including Thalassian. This meant that when Lethallan was stopped by a rather impressive looking Blood Elf not long after she'd started to scream, she understood _exactly _what they were saying to each other.

At first, the realisation that she was being bartered over like a farmer's prize heifer merely knocked her out of her fear-induced haze. A small spark of indignation began to build in her heart as they discussed her 'value' but that was quickly extinguished when she heard Lethallan name his price.

It was_ obscene_. So obscene she almost forgot how much she hated him. When the other Blood Elf actually agreed to pay it, her mouth fell open in shock. She quickly closed it, as she didn't think it was a good idea for them to know that she could understand them.

_Tell him he's dreaming_, she silently wished the blood elf, then started to feel really afraid about what he might want in return for such a price.

When the deal was struck, Lethallan turned to her, and grinned. "Well, time for us to part ways, Sweetheart," he said. He reached down and picked her up, kissing her on the cheek as he set her on her feet. "Maybe next time I'm in town, the Ranger-General will let me take you for a drink.'

"Bugger off," Braelyn said as firmly as she could. Lethallan merely laughed, and walked off, presumably to find the nearest bank. "Come along, Mangle."

The ghoul eyed Braelyn for a second then threw his arms around her. "'Bye, pretty Braelyn!" he growled. "Mangle miss you!" He then trotted off after Lethallan with a howl of ghoulish grief.

It was one of those times when Braelyn was unable to decide what to feel or how to act. She stared blankly at the bright beauty that was Silvermoon before glancing at the man who had just 'liberated' her. He was watching her intently, as were the three guards behind him. She opened her mouth to thank him, before closing it again without saying anything. What _could_ she say? She reached up and nervously ran her hands through her hair, which was now flowing messily half-way down her back thanks to Lethallan's rage. She took one tentative little step to the side... and then took off running.

She wasn't thinking as she ran, she just moved. She heard a surprised shout from behind her and increased her pace, wincing as her feet throbbed in pain. Before she got very far, a nearby mage froze her lower legs to the ground. With a startled 'ooomph' she wobbled wildly as she tried to maintain her balance. She started falling forward, only to be stopped by an arm slung around her waist.

"Thank you, Tyren," a male voice said to the mage who froze her. The man Lethallan had called the Ranger-General was staring down at her with an amused smile. "Did you even know where you were going?" he asked in Common. Braelyn nodded her head. He raised an eyebrow at her.

Braelyn cleared her throat and spoke as calmly as she could. "I was going away. From you."

The guards muttered angrily to each other, but the Ranger-General let out a short burst of laughter. "I see. It was a valiant effort, but if you're done attempting the impossible, I need you to come with me." He placed a hand on her elbow and guided her towards a gateway. Braelyn held her head high, and went to meet her fate.

* * *

Braelyn hadn't expected to be taken to meet the Regent Lord of Quel'Thalas; she'd expected to find herself in jail, or, worse-case-scenario, the Ranger-General's bedroom. Nevertheless, she now stood in one of the most decadent rooms she'd ever seen as the Ranger-General was forced to explain why he was in possession of a bedraggled human woman. She battled to keep her face blank so that they would not realise she could understand what they were saying. 'They' being the Ranger-General, the Regent Lord, and a third Blood Elf male Braelyn did not recognise.

While the Regent-Lord had been surprised to see Braelyn, he did not seem overtly angry or hostile. The other man, however, was both, and to an alarming degree. He glared at her with an almost palpable distaste, and had spent most of the past half an hour encouraging the other two to 'get rid of it'. He had the brightly glowing green eyes common to his race and a mane of beautiful blue-black hair pulled back into a pony tail. Half of his face was hidden by a strange kind of cloth helm that matched his finely crafted red, black, and gold mage robes. An impressive staff completed his ensemble, and with a start, Braelyn, realised that this must be the Grand Magister of Quel'Thalas, though his name escaped her for the moment.

It was clear that he had problems with the entire human race, and, as he refused to refer to her as anything other than 'it', obviously thought that they were less worthy of respect than termites.

It never failed to hurt Braelyn that someone could hate her so much for no other reason than her race.

So far, Halduron, the Ranger-General, was encouraging his leader to use Braelyn as a bargaining chip - a tool to get concessions from the Alliance. He also suggested that it might be possible to exchange her for one, or more, of the Sunreavers taken captive during the purge of Dalaran. The angry mage snorted in contempt. "As if Proudmoore or Wrynn will swap anything for that," he said, jerking his head at Braelyn. She had taken to keeping her gaze fixed on the thick red carpet, face hidden by her tangled hair. It was the only way to hide her rising anger, and knowledge of their words.

The Regent-Lord walked over to her, and Braelyn could feel his gaze linger on her. "Are you sure she isn't a civilian, Halduron?" he asked. Braelyn liked his voice. It was cultured and calm, reminding her a little of Andorien.

"Look beneath the dirt and dress, Lor'themar. Doe's she look like a simple farm girl to you? Or some beloved housewife?"

Lor'themar thought for a while, before sighing. "No, I guess not," he said. A brief pause, and then the Regent-Lord switched over to Common. "Miss, why do you not look at me? At my advisors?" he inquired.

Braelyn raised her head, making eye contact briefly, before settling her gaze on elf's broad chest. "I'm sorry, my Lord," she said softly, voice hoarse after so much screaming, "but your guard dog looks like he'll kill me with fire if I so much as breathe on you."

"I'd like to," the Magister snapped after an angry pause. Halduron laughed loudly, and even the Regent-Lord smiled briefly.

"Is the Ranger-General correct, Miss?" Lor'themar asked, and this time Braelyn looked at him as he spoke. "Are you a solider of the Alliance?"

Braelyn shook her head. "I fought one battle for the Alliance, in Warsong Gulch about... six weeks ago, I think," she said, unsure about the passage of time. Grief flickered briefly in her eyes before she continued. "That was enough to convince me that I am not a soldier. I prefer to choose my own adventures."

"A hero then," Lor'themar stated. Braelyn shook her head. How could she be a hero when she'd let her friends and her beloved pets die? Sure, there was a slight chance that Growly, Andorien, and Odariah had survived, but it was a slim one. Too slim to support hope.

"I bet she's a healer," sniffed the Magister. "A priest; she's not bulky enough to be a paladin," he added with a sneer. Braelyn was tempted to stick her tongue out at him.

"No," she said. "My cousin's the healer of the family. I'm a hunter."

"A hunter!" Halduron exclaimed happily. "Good choice! But... where are you're pets?" He winced at the look that passed over Braelyn's face, a tortured mix of anger and grief.

"Dead," she bit out.

"That death knight?"

"Yes."

"I'm sorry, I know how the loss of a pet feels," Halduron said gently. Braelyn only nodded in reply, desperately holding back her tears.

"I'm not sure if Varian Wrynn or Lady Proudmoore will be willing to trade a Sunreaver for an adventurer, but we'll make an attempt," the Regent-Lord said, waving his hand to silence the protests of the magister. "We'll need a name, however."

Braelyn had hoped they'd never ask who she was. Her mother was a mage, and well known and respected among the Kirin Tor, which meant she had met and befriended many of the Sunreavers before their expulsion from Dalaran, including Aethas Sunreaver himself. If the men before her didn't recognise her surname, and she was certain that the Magister at least would, it wouldn't take long for them to find out just how important her parents were. She didn't believe for a minute that the King or Lady Proudmoore would consider her worth negotiating with the Horde over, even taking her mother and father into consideration, and why put her family through the agony of knowing what was happening to her, if there was nothing they could do to help her? As angry as she was with them, Braelyn wanted to spare her parents that pain, even if it meant prolonging her own suffering. Or lead to her death.

"The death knight's ghoul called her Braelyn," Halduron said, "but did not supply her family name."

"It's just Braelyn," Braelyn blurted, a little too quickly. She noticed the Magister looking at her with scorn.

"I doubt that," he said. "Your kind always have last names."

"Fine," Braelyn snapped, before dipping down into a mocking curtsy. "Lady Braelyn Anonymous-Nobody, at your service. Trust me, the pleasure is all yours."

While the Regent-Lord and the Grand Magister looked nonplussed, Halduron laughed. "Oh, I like her!" he said in Thalassian. "She's worth every sovereign!"

"You're not helping yourself by doing this, Braelyn," Lor'themar said gently.

"I know," she replied, dropping the sarcasm. "But given that I am being held here against my will, why should I make things easy for you, my Lord?"

The Regent-Lord sighed in frustration. "Very well. Halduron, take our unexpected guest to the dungeons. She'll have to stay there until we can organize something with the Alliance."

"Yes, my Lord," the Ranger-General said, and took Braelyn by the elbow. As she was led aways, Braelyn looked back at the other two blood elves. The Regent-Lord had already moved on to other problems, but the Grand Magister was still staring at her with disdain radiating from his blazing green eyes.

* * *

Fourteen days. That's how long Braelyn had languished in the dungeons of Silvermoon City before being summoned by the Regent-Lord. For that excruciating fortnight, she'd been confined to a dank and dismal cage barely bigger than a double-sized bed, and subject to the jeers and vulgar catcalls of her fellow prisoners. She looked a mess, hair matted and filthy, dress almost in tatters, and the smell was positively foul. She had forgotten what it felt like to be clean, and to breathe fresh air. The only kindnesses she had been shown were a regular supply of food, a visit by a healer to mend the damage done by her fight with Lethallan, and the apathy of the guards. She had kept her sanity by thinking of her home, the cool green beauty of Elwynn Forest, and making escape plans. The plans got more and more outlandish as time went by.

She cried only during the extra dark hours of the night, believing that her tears were for her family and friends, and not for herself. After the first few days, she sleep as often as she could, the only escape she had. She got angry too, but it was a helpless rage, directed at nothing and everything.

Her heart broke at the thought of the Alliance treating their prisoners this way.

As soon as she saw Lor'themar Theron's face, Braelyn knew that no agreement had been reached with the King. Although she had guessed that this would happen, it still hurt, and as much as she'd been preparing for death, she was afraid. The Regent-Lord looked at her with pity, though he soon frowned when he saw Braelyn's wretched condition. _They must be able to smell me all the way over in Northrend_, she thought.

"I'm afraid that Lady Proudmoore is refusing to have anything to do with the Blood Elves," he said, "and King Varian says that he will not negotiate with the Horde while Hellscream remains as Warchief."

"I suspected as much," Braelyn said, her voice croaky with underuse. She coughed, clearing her throat. "What will happen to me now?"

"We kill you," the Grand Magister said bluntly. Braelyn gasped, looking at him with shocked eyes. _How can he be so cold?_

"We can't kill her!" Halduron protested.

"Why not? We kill Alliance all the time."

"Yes, soldiers on the battlefield, or heroes who raid our territories! Not unarmed women who are dragged here unwillingly!"

"And what do you propose, Brightwing?" snarled the Grand Magister. "Are you suggesting we turn her out of the front gates to find her way home like a stray puppy? She won't last a day out there."

"I'd rather die out there than here!" snapped Braelyn, tired of being talked about like she wasn't in the room. "Not that I wouldn't be able to take care of myself."

"Enough!" Lor'themar said. "We are not killing her, either by execution or exile." Braelyn was shocked, but felt somewhat smug at the look of anger on the Grand Magister's face. The mage was going to protest when the Regent Lord interrupted him. "She is not our enemy, Rommath. She was brought here against her will and through no fault of her own."

"My Lord, are you suggesting we send the girl home?"

"No, Halduron. I'm saying she will remain here."

"By the Light, why?" Rommath demanded.

"Because I am not convinced that she is of no use to us," the Regent-Lord said. "We do not know who this girl really is," he pointed out, "but it is clear she is not a peasant. Her education is evident in her speech, and I've never met a peasant who could afford to send their children off on adventures. Perhaps the King will change his attitude when a couple of distraught, and very wealthy, merchants come to him, pleading for him to find their daughter? She might even be a noble. It is not uncommon for nobility to send their younger offspring out into the world."

"I highly doubt that she's nobility," Rommath sniffed, and this time Braelyn did stick her tongue out at him, even thoughb she new it was childish. He rolled his eyes. "But I know better than to keep arguing with you, my Lord."

Lor'themar laughed. "A wise move."

"Are you sending me back to the dungeons? I would do anything to avoid being stuck there again," Braelyn asked, her tone implying that they'd have to catch her first.

"No, Braelyn, I will not send you there again. I have something else in mind, something that will put you to good use," the Regent-Lord said, with an almost mischievous look at his Grand Magister.

"No!" Rommath growled. "You are not foisting this girl off on me, Lor'themar! Give her to Halduron, he's the one who bought her!"

"Hey!" Braelyn protested, "Stop treating me like a piece of property!"

Halduron grinned. "But, Grand Magister, weren't you saying just last week that you needed an assistant? Someone to help free up your apprentices?"

"Yes, but not some human idiot who obviously doesn't know a thing about magic!"

"I've changed my mind," Braelyn said to the Regent-Lord. She knew that her temper was going to get her in trouble, but there was only so much crap she could take before breaking. "Take me back to the dungeons. I'd rather be molested by the guards than put up this racist fool."

"Me, racist?" Rommath snapped. "That's hypocritical coming from you, don't you think, _human_?"

"Unlike you, I do not judge people because of their race!" Braelyn retorted. "You don't hear me calling you Blood Elf all the time." It had been a long time since she had argued with someone like this; usually Braelyn tried to maintain her dignity and find a way to avoid confrontations, no matter how angry or upset she was. This arrogant Blood Elf, however, put her on edge, making her react without thinking things through.

"Ahem," Lor'themar interrupted. Braelyn and Rommath stopped yelling, but did not stop glaring at each other. "I've made up my mind, and there will be no more arguing. She will be your assistant until I say otherwise, and you will take care of her." The Grand Magister started to protest. "I mean it, Rommath. If anything happens to her, I _will _hold you accountable. Do you understand me?"

"Yes, my Lord," the Grand-Magister replied through clenched teeth.

"Good. I suggest taking her to your house now, to let her settle in."

"What?" Braelyn squeaked. "I have to live with him?" Lor'themar nodded. "No! Can't I sleep on the streets? In the sewers?" She began backing up, a familiar sense of panic grabbing at her heart. Before Lor'themar could respond, Braelyn had already turned and started running.

Halduron chuckled. "There she goes again," he said fondly. "You'll have to watch out for that, Rommath." The Grand Magister just snarled in reply as he encased Braelyn in a block of ice.

"Fool of a human!"

* * *

**AN** - Finally Rommath appears. Isn't he lovely?

Next chapter: Braelyn struggles to find a way out of Silvermoon City, as two unexpected arrivals threaten to reveal her parents' identity.


	7. Revelations

Braelyn may have defrosted, but Rommath sure as hell had not. The trip from Sunfury Spire was made in a silence so frigid it made Northrend a tropical paradise in comparison. The Grand Magister stalked through the streets without even bothering to look back at his unwelcome charge, who was struggling to keep up with him. It was getting dark, and although the streets were relatively empty, the young hunter was still unnerved by the curious or hostile looks she was receiving from those few blood elves that were out and about.

When they finally arrived at the magister's house, Braelyn almost whistled in appreciation. It was huge, at least three storeys tall, with a lush garden surrounding it. Even in the poor light, she could tell that it was made of the same materials that had gone into the construction of the rest of the city; off-white stone, accentuated with gold and beautiful red crystals. _It must look gorgeous during the day_, she thought.

"I don't have all day, human," Rommath snapped, holding the door open. Biting her lip, Braelyn entered her new 'home'.

It was just as gorgeous as the exterior. Plush red carpet and silk drapes. Beautifully hand-crafted furniture and furnishings edged with gold embroidery. It was every bit as lush as the garden, and everywhere she looked, Braelyn saw books. Row upon row of them, just begging to be read. Just as she was about to start swooning, she realised with a pang of disappointment that Rommath was unlikely to allow her the joy of reading them.

Braelyn followed the Grand Magister as he climbed to the top floor, stopping only to glare at her when she stumbled over a broom that was sweeping the staircase without a servant attached. _ I guess it's true,_ she mused, _the Blood Elves do use magic for everything. How... lazy. _

The third floor opened up into an open foyer-type area complete with lounges, seats, and small tables. There were only four doors leading off the landing. Rommath stopped in front of the one furthest from the stairs, towards the back of the house. "These are my quarters," he said. "You are forbidden from entering them. Ever." He gestured to a door to the left, "that is a guest bedroom."

"Am I banned from there, too?" Braelyn asked childishly.

"Yes."

Rommath pointed to the door directly to the right of the one leading to his room. "This will be your bedroom," he said, blocking the doorway when Braelyn rushed forward with a relieved expression. She was longing to sleep on a real bed again. She looked at him questioningly.

"If you think I'm going to allow you to touch my furntiure looking and _smelling_ they way you do now, you are even more stupid than I thought," he sneered. Braelyn had to bite her cheek, hard, to stop herself from yelling at him. She didn't want to have to face the Regent-Lord again so soon. He had treated her with respect, so Braelyn wanted to return that kindness as best she was able. Which meant no fighting with Jerk-Face McGee.

The Grand-Magister waved her over to the door closest to the stairs with an impatient 'tsk' and opened it. Inside was the most luxurious bathroom Braelyn had ever seen. Everything was gleaming white marble edged with gold, and the bathtub, which was set into the floor, was enormous. "You will wait here; someone will be along to help you as soon as I can arrange it. Do not even contemplate making another of your pathetic escape attempts," he warned her. "I am not so easily amused as Halduron is."

Braelyn merely turned her back on him as he exited the room. When he was gone, she moved to the window. It was fully dark now, and she could see the lamps shining brightly throughout the city. To spite her current jailor, she thought about attempting to sneak out, maybe via the window, but was too tired to put much effort into it. Besides, an extra day of captivity was a low price to pay for the chance to get properly clean. Braelyn was practically salivating about bathing in an actual bath, with hot water and soap, with fluffy towels to dry herself off with afterwards. _And my hair,_ she thought blissfully. _ I never thought I'd have clean hair again!_

The bathroom door opened, and Braelyn turned to see a beautiful blonde-haired Blood Elf woman enter carrying a pile of towels, cleaning cloths, brushes, and soaps. She was not much taller than Braelyn, but she was thinner and more graceful looking. At first, she thought the stranger was Rommath's wife, and felt a pang of sympathy for the unfortunate woman, but then noticed that she was not wearing a wedding ring.

"Oh, you poor thing," the woman spoke, with kindness, not condescension. Braelyn was surprised by this. She was sure that Halduron and Lor'themar had made up her quota of non-hostile Blood Elves. "My name is Lorelai. I'm a priestess here in the city. Rommath asked me to come, ah, take care of you." She noticed Braelyn's curious expression and added, "He's an old friend of my family's."

"I'm Braelyn," Braelyn replied simply. "I'm a hunter... well, I am when I'm not being held hostage, that is. I'm from Goldshire, although I was in Darkshore when I got caught."

As she talked, the priest went over to the bath and dropped a rune into it. There was a soft flash of light, before the bath filled with water. Braelyn was stunned. She'd never seen a rune capable of that. A second rune, one of fire, followed the first, and steam began to waft around the room.

"Let's get you clean," Lorelai said, and helped Braelyn out of her clothes. For the first time, the hunter was glad not to have seen her reflection during the past few weeks. Her dress and underwear were little more than filth covered rags, and she almost wept when she saw them. _If they're that bad, I must look like I've been dead for six years,_ she thought. _ I could've passed myself as newly Forsaken. _

"You'll feel better soon, I promise." Lorelai said, guiding the upset human into the water.

As soon as she felt the hot water around her cold toes, Braelyn began to relax. She settled into the tub, the water lapping at her neck. The Blood Elf priest handed her a bar of sweet-smelling soap that felt like it had grit contained within it and said, "This will get the gunk off your skin, then we'll do your hair."

Lorelai looked taken aback when Braelyn burst into tears. "What's wrong?" she said, soft hand reaching out to touch a shaking shoulder.

"I'm sorry, " Braelyn sobbed piteously. "You're so kind. I just never... it's been so long... I'm so filthy!"

"Not for very much longer," the priest said, and began to soap Braelyn's arms as she sobbed her heart out.

* * *

Two hours later, Braelyn was finally feeling human again. It had taken four tubs of hot, soapy water, an hour and a half 's worth of elbow grease, and a lot of swearing on Braelyn's part before her skin was liberated from its coat of filth and she no longer smelled like a sewer. An extra half an hour was spent waging war on the matted bird's nest that was her hair. Lorelai had suggested cutting it short and letting it regrow, but Braelyn refused to allow Lethallan to take anything else away from her, even something as trivial as her hair. The Blood Elf priestess seemed to understand, as she did not hesitate to help Braelyn tame her wayward locks.

"Thank you, Lorelai," Braelyn said as the Elf helped her into a four-poster bed (complete with princess pillows and a curtain, Braelyn noted in amusement). "I can't put into words how grateful I am."

Lorelai smiled, and patted Braelyn on the shoulder. "It was my pleasure, and my duty. I only wished I had heard about you earlier. The priesthood never would have allowed you to remain in the dungeons alone for so long." She helped Braelyn lie down, then covered her with a light woolen blanket. "But, you're out now, and although I know that Rommath is not an easy man to get along with, he will honour his promise to the Regent-Lord to look after you. Now, sleep, and in the morning I'll be back to take you to a tailor. That dress I lent you will be too long for you to wear comfortably."

"And too tight," Braelyn replied, eyeing the Blood Elf's svelte figure with envious eyes. Lorelai just laughed softly and bid her goodnight as she closed the door behind her.

Braelyn was sure that she would not fall asleep; her bedroom opened up onto a balcony, but there was no door, just a thin gauzy curtain, no doubt red. A soft breeze tickled her face and she could hear the sounds of the city guards on their patrol. Her mind raced with anxiety. Lorelai had spoken of Rommath with great respect and affection, but Braelyn was still worried about living with the man. Would he really go out of his way to keep her safe? His hatred of humans obviously ran deep.

_Perhaps I should try my luck with escaping from the balcony,_ she thought. But to her surprise, sleep pulled her under before she could even shift her blanket.

* * *

Braelyn woke up in Stormwind Keep. Or she thought she did, until she looked around and saw that everything had an odd, translucent quality to it. She frowned as she realised that she was dreaming of the day she'd delivered the letter to the king; the letter that had gotten her into so much trouble. The letter that had led to Bitsie's death. She could see the arrogant advisor, and the two kings talking in one part of the room, but everyone else was hazy, little more than vague outlines. Braelyn called out to the advisor, but he did seem to hear her. No one seemed to hear her.

She stood up and began to move towards the king. As she did so, Braelyn felt something shift slightly in her pocket. She reached back and retrieved an envelope. It was her parent's missive to King Varian. She stared at it. It seemed to be sparkling, little stars dancing about the parchment. Why was she dreaming of this?

"Why am I here?" she thought aloud.

"Because you need to see," a male voice responded. Braelyn gasped in surprise and spun around. Stormwind Keep had faded away, and all that was left was an ocean of darkness, pierced by a single column of light.

"Where are you? Who are you?" Braelyn demanded, as a figure stepped into the light.

"Think back, Braelyn Hawke," the man replied, and Braelyn could see that the man was dressed as a Stormwind city guard.

"You! You're the one who mind controlled me! You said that the Light was going to give me clarity."

"And it will," the man replied, gazing at Braelyn with his uncomfortably intense eyes. "But you need to recognise this moment in time for what it really was; a beginning, not an end."

"Not an end?" Braelyn hissed, angry. "I saw my friend murdered before my eyes, I've been taken away from all that love, all that I know. For all I know, I could be dead tomorrow!"

"Your friend's fate was not something that was yours to control. Do not dishonour her sacrifice with such arrogance. She is at peace now, and knows the Light."

"Then how is this a beginning?" Braelyn asked, gesturing to the letter clamped tightly in her hand. The man sighed, as if pained by having to deal with a particularly dense child.

"When you stepped into the Keep that day, you were a troubled soul, drifting aimlessly from one place to another, relying on your friends to give you purpose. This letter was the Light's way of getting you to where you needed to be."

"Are you seriously saying that I _need_ to be in Silvermoon?"

"Yes."

"But why?"

The man smiled, giving Braelyn a mischievous look. "Now that would be spoiling the fun!" he laughed. "Just know that in the city of the Sin'dorei you will find your purpose in life, your future... and great happiness."

"I'm not sure how much comfort I can take from the words of a city guard," Braelyn said. She was disconcerted by the man's words. What could there possibly be for her in Silvermoon apart from suffering and death?

"Take my advice, Braelyn; do not be so quick to judge based on appearances alone. They will lead you astray." With that piece of sage advice, the city guard disappeared in a flash of light, and Braelyn woke up in a tangle of sheets, the bright sun of Silvermoon blinding her.

* * *

It was hard not to get lost in Silvermoon, Braelyn soon realised, even with a guide to help her. Unlike Stormwind, with its colour coded districts laid out like a grid, the Blood Elf city had the same colour scheme throughout, and was labyrinthine in design. She was unsure whether this was a result of Prince Arthas' rampage through Quel'Thalas, or if the Elves liked it like this. Either way, Braelyn would have gladly sacrificed her hair if it meant the roofs of Silvermoon suddenly got new coats of paint.

Braelyn had lost sight of Lorelai five minutes ago and was now walking slowly around the grand fountain in the centre of the Bazaar. She was trying to find the Blood Elf priest without making eye contact with anyone else. Rommath had told her this morning before he left for the Spire that the Regent-Lord had issued a proclamation saying that Braelyn was under his protection, and was free to wander the city. She was to be left alone unless she attacked anyone unprovoked, or was caught attempting to escape. She was also prohibited from purchasing armour or weapons. Considering the way that the civilian population were looking at her, though, Brealyn was not inclined to wander too far on her own. It was as if they were encouraging her with their eyes to make a run for it.

So they could shoot her in the back.

The human hunter was weighed down by several bags containing specially tailored clothing and footwear, as well as toiletries and a few little luxuries that Lorelai had insisted upon. They had all been purchased using Rommath's gold, and Braelyn was very uneasy with being so indebted to the man. She did not trust him enough to believe that he wouldn't hold it over her head somehow.

With a huff, Braelyn turned, intending to sit down on one of the benches set into the base of the fountain. Instead, she ran face first into the chest of a Blood Elf mage. "Oomph!" she said, staggering backwards. She would have fallen if the man had not reached out and grabbed her arm.

"I'm so sorry!" Braelyn squeaked, sure she was about to be set on fire for daring to assault a Blood Elf with her clumsiness.

"It is all right, Miss," the mage said in surprise. Braelyn risked glancing up at him. The mage had brown hair, and was very well dressed with an impressive, and expensive looking, staff strapped to his back. She could tell by his appearance that this was a person of some importance. She was confused, however, by the way he was looking at her; instead of the expected 'by the Light, it's a human, kill it with fire' expression, he was staring at her with shocked recognition.

"Ellysan? Ellysan Hawke?!" he exclaimed in Common.

As soon as she heard her mother's name, Braelyn backed up in horror, only stopping when her knees collided with the edge of the bench. She sat down heavily, feeling the blood drain from her face. "Oh, no!" she whispered. _They can't find out about my parents! _

The Blood Elf mage hurried over to kneel in front of her. He lifted her chin to study her face. "No, not Ellysan," he murmured softly, waving away a guard who had walked over to see what trouble the human was causing, "too young. You're her daughter... Braella? Braelira? Right?"

"It's Braelyn."

"Oh, that's right. She spoke of you often, and with much love," the mage said with a fond smile. "I am Aethus Sunreaver, by the way."

"You're the Archmage?" Braelyn asked.

"Yes," Aethas replied. "You're mother and I were good friends once. I hope we still are." Braelyn saw the look of sadness that crossed the mage's face, and felt a pang of sympathy for him. _He must have lost so many friends because of the purge of Dalaran, _she thought, _not to mention had his faith in the possibility of neutrality shaken._

"For what it's worth," Braelyn said, "I don't think Mum believed you had anything to do with the theft of the Divine Bell. She said that if you did know about the Sunreaver portal, it would not have been until afterwards, when it was too late to do anything about it."

Aethus looked stunned by Braelyn's comment. "I'm... glad to hear that. Her good opinion is something I have always cherished." He looked at her with concern. "But why are you here on your own?"

"I was brought here by a Blood Elf death knight," Braelyn exclaimed. "The Ranger-General bought me off him to save me from a life of slavery. They don't know that I know that, by the way," she added, seeing the look on Aethas' face. "I thought it best not to let them know that I can speak Thalassian."

"A wise move," Aethas agreed, "but have they not tried to repatriate you?" Braelyn noddeed.

"They have, but it was a no-go; Lady Proudmoore because she's still mad at you guys, and the King because he refuses to deal with a Hellscream-run Horde." Aethas looked outraged.

"But surely Jaina could not be so cruel as to leave you in such a situation! Your mother is one of her greatest friends and supporters! And the King... both your parents devoted their lives to the Alliance." He paused when he saw Braelyn's sheepish expression. "Unless... you never told them who you are?"

"They know my first name, but not my family name. I don't think I'm important enough for the King or Lady Proudmoore to make concessions to the Horde, and I don't want my parents worrying about me being a hostage if there is nothing they can do about it. Lor'themar Theron suspects I'm not a civilian or a low-ranking grunt, though, which is why I am still alive. He decided to hold onto me, 'just in case'."

"I would have thought they'd be keeping you in the dungeons."

"They were," Braelyn said with a shudder, "but they let me out yesterday. The Regent-Lord has insisted that I stay with Rommath as some sort of assistant, though what good a hunter wil..."

"Rommath?" Aethas exclaimed. "He left you with Rommath?"

"Yeah," Braelyn said, shrugging, "I don't understand it either. It's obvious that Rommath hates humans. Maybe the Regent-Lord thinks the problem of what to do with me will be solved if Rommath does his nut and kills me. Or that I'll confess my deepest, darkest secrets in order to escape the guy."

"I don't like this," Aethas said. "I will speak to the Regent-Lord myself, maybe see if I can have you transferred to my care. As ex-Kirin Tor, I am more human-friendly than the Grand Magister."

"I already tried that," Lorelai said, suddenly appearing by Braelyn's side, "but the Regent-Lord insists that she stay with Rommath." The priest looked at Braelyn with stern eyes. "I thought I told you not to wander."

"I tried not to!" Braelyn said. "But everything is so distracting, and the city looks the same wherever I go!"

"Well, at least it was the Archmage who found you," Lorelai said. "It could have been much worse. But it's time to get you back before the Grand Magister starts to think I've helped you flee the city."

Braelyn snorted. "More like 'thinks I murdered you and fled the city'."

Aethas raised a hand. "Would you mind if I escorted the lady, Lorelai? I wish to talk to her about a few things."

"Of course, Archmage Sunreaver." Lorelai replied. "I will come visit you as soon as I am able, Braelyn."

"Thank you so much, Lorelai," Braelyn said, "I don't know what I would've done without you." She gave the priest a short hug, and a wave goodbye. She turned to Aethas. "What did you want to discuss?"

With a wave of his hand, Aethas had Braelyn's shopping floating in the air behind them as they started to head back to the Grand Magister's residence. "I wish I were in a position to help you leave here, but I am not." He paused, and Braelyn nodded in understanding. She would not have him committing treason for her, a virtual stranger. "My friendship with your mother, however, obliges me not to turn my back on you completely. If you wish it, I can send her a message to let her know that you are safe and well."

"That would be fantastic!" Braelyn cried. "But, please, don't tell them that I'm stuck in Silvermoon. My parents are liable to do something drastic otherwise."

"If you insist. I will tell them that you were in the company of a death knight. Knowing Ellysan, she will try to track him down, which will hopefully give you time to sort something out here."

"You will need to reassure her that I am alive and unharmed. My friends, if they managed to survive, have probably told my parents about what happened in Darkshore, and I wasn't exactly in great shape when they saw me last."

"I will think of something convincing, though I really think you should tell the Regent-Lord who you are."

"I know that would be the easiest thing to do, but I'm not sure that it's the right thing to do. Something tells me I need to keep my secret a little longer, that my fate is not completely in my own hands right now." She paused, a new concern fighting for her attention. "If you could tell my mother one more thing...?"

"Certainly," Aethas replied.

"Ask her to remind Odariah and Andorien of their promise. Tell her that it is important to me that they honour their word." Aethas raised an eyebrow at her, clearly intrigued, but wise enough to recognize that Braelyn was not going to say anything more on the subject.

"Very well, I will send a letter off tonight. It might take a while to reach her, given the current political climate," Aethas said. Braelyn reached over and squeezed his hand in gratitude.

"Thank you, Archmage Sunreaver," she said. "You don't know what a relief it is to know that I have at least two friendly faces to turn to in this city, that I'm not as alone as I thought I was."

"You are most welcome," Aethas said, returning Braelyn's gesture,"and, please, do not hesitate to come to me if Rommath attempts to hurt you, or scares you in any way."

Braelyn said nothing, just nodded her head. She smiled, thinking that her stay in Silvermoon might not be so bad after all.

* * *

When Rommath returned home that night, he was in a less than charitable mood. It was bad enough he had a human living underneath his roof, but now he also had to deal with Sunreaver's meddling. The Archmage had tried to talk Lor'themar into letting the human go with him, which Rommath was all for, until he realised that the only reason Sunreaver was concerned was because he questioned Rommath's willingness to keep the girl safe. Rommath was the first to admit that he was anti-Alliance, but he had given the Regent-Lord his word, and he would honour it. To imply otherwise was insulting.

He was also offended by the idea that he could be provoked by a mere hunter into abandoning his duty.

It was late, and Rommath was hoping to go to bed and forget this day had ever happened, but as he climbed the staircase to his third floor bedroom, he noticed that the door to his library was open, and a soft glow came from within. He paused by the doorway, surprised by what he saw.

Sitting on one of the long red couches, the human woman was engrossed in a massive tome of Blood Elven history. If he were anywhere else, Rommath would have sworn a second woman was present in the building, so different was Braelyn's appearance from the morning. Her hair, which he previously thought to be a medium brown colour, was actually quite pale, only a few shades darker than blonde. Now that it was clean and brushed, he could see how long it was, reaching the middle of her back in soft waves. Her skin was tanned, no doubt a result of her hunter's lifestyle, and he could make out a slight dusting of freckles across the bridge of her delicate nose. Her lips, soft and plump looking, were rosy, whether by nature or because she was now chewing on them as she read, he did not know.

A frown twisted her mouth; obviously something had troubled her. With a malicious smirk, Rommath wondered if she had learnt something that challenged her beliefs about the 'righteousness' of her people. Her eyes darted to the side, and he was suddenly aware of the strength contained in those dark blue orbs. He had to admit that the girl must have a strong spirit to be coping so well with her captivity. He knew a few of his own race that would not cope half as well if they found themselves in Jaina Proudmoore's possession.

Rommath was no fool, though. He saw that her strength was coupled with an equal amount of stubbornness. It was not a good combination; she would try to run again. In fact, he was surprised she hadn't made an attempt already. Perhaps, she was lulling him into a false sense of security, or, more likely, her unfamiliar surroundings were causing her some self-doubt. She was stubborn, but not foolish.

"This Garithos bloke sounds like he was a real bastard," Braelyn muttered darkly, frown intensifying. "No wonder Kael'Thas went crazy."

Rommath was stunned. He never expected to hear her say such a thing about a man most humans considered a hero. "That man was a disgrace to your race," he said venomously. "And the Prince was not crazy, simply misguided."

Braelyn let out a startled cry, and leapt to her feet. Her eyes widened in fear as she saw Rommath standing in the doorway, and she backed up until her back hit the wall.

"Calm yourself, woman," he said. "Despite Sunreaver's fears, you are not in danger here."

He watched as Braelyn raised her hands to her chest as if trying to force her heart to stop racing. She looked at him, this time without fear. "I'm sorry, I forgot where I was for a minute. It's okay for me to be in here, right?" Rommath nodded.

"As long as you don't destroy anything," he said. He noticed with amusement that she looked angry at being thought capable of such a thing. "Are you enjoying the book?"

"Yes," she said, "although it's very confronting in some parts."

"The Sin'dorei's hatred of the Alliance is not based on trivialities," Rommath stated, surprised again to see the human nodding her head in agreement. "But it is getting late," he added, not wanting to discuss such things with her any longer. He was sure her understanding would only go so far before traditional loyalties caused her to start arguing with him. "I suggest you retire for the night, tomorrow will be a busy day for us both."

"I will," Braelyn said, then bit her lower lip again. "Thank you," she blurted out suddenly. Rommath raised his eyebrow at her.

"For what?"

"Buying me all those clothes and things." She would not meet his eyes, but Rommath could still see the proud tilt of her chin, and realised that it was not easy for her to be thanking him.

"It was in my own interest to do so," he said. "You looked dead, and if I had let you stay like that, I would have never heard the end of it from Halduron or the Regent-Lord."

"But, if I looked dead you could tell yourself that I was Forsaken, and not a horrible human come to torment you," Braelyn replied, the barest hint of a smile teasing her mouth.

"I'd hardly consider that an improvement," Rommath said, dryly. "The Forsaken are not always the most trustworthy of allies." With that, he gave the human a slight bow of the head, and disappeared out the door.

* * *

Braelyn grumbled under her breath as the tiny green crystal slipped out of her hand and rolled across the table. Rommath's promised 'busy day' turned out to be several 'busy days' and involved making her sort out a new batch of enchanting reagents by colour and size. Rommath had very exacting standards, and was not above making her redo an hour's work if he was unhappy with her efforts. It was mind-numbingly tedious, and for the fifth time in as many minutes, she thanked the Light she had not chosen enchanting as a profession. _I'll stick to skinning and herbalism, thanks_, she thought.

She was sitting in a room that Rommath used as a laboratory, along with his two apprentices. Braelyn had introduced herself, which compelled them to return the favour; their names being Astylia and Baldren. Since then, they had shown no inclination to want to get to know her at all, opting to ignore her as they went about their studies. Hurt at first, Braelyn decided it was probably a good thing, as she could tell from their conversations that they were a pair of stuck-up snobs. Their favourite topic was the utter uselessness of humans as mages.

_They should say that to my mother._

Braelyn rescued the wayward crystal, and placed it in the basket set aside for 'tiny-and-green'. The two apprentices suddenly started to work more diligently, their conversation about "pathetic human mages" abruptly switching to one about the uses of spirit dust combined with mageweave cloth. It was easy to see why; their master had returned.

It had been interesting watching the Grand Magister with his students over the past days. He was still the stern, aloof man Braelyn had met the first day of her arrival in Silvermoon, but he wasn't as cold. While there was no laughing, or even that much smiling, going on, he was respectful and encouraging. It was enough to make Braelyn quite wistful. Even though they'd shared a civil moment a few nights before, she was not foolish enough to expect the civility to last; simply because she was neither a Blood Elf, nor a mage. The only reason that nothing had disturbed the peace already was the fact that there hadn't been _time_ for trouble to arise.

"Braelyn," Rommath snapped, and she could tell he was in a bad mood. Braelyn had heard a rumour from Lorelai that the Kirin Tor were making life difficult for the Sunreavers out in Pandaria, and that Rommath and Lor'themar Theron may have to take a portal there to sort things out. She hoped it were so; the break would be nice, and give her a chance to investigate the city properly. She wanted to make another attempt to escape, but was unwilling to try while she was still so unfamiliar with the city's layout.

"Yes?" Braelyn replied, keeping her voice as neutral as possible.

"Gather the blue crystals you've sorted, and come with me. Aethas has need of them."

At the mention of the Archmage's name, Braelyn felt her face light up. She liked Aethas, and hopefully he would find a way to let her know if his message to her mother had been received. She grabbed the basket of blue crystals, and followed Rommath outside.

The trip to the Spire was made in silence, Braelyn enjoying the fresh air and sun on her skin. She must have started to slow down because Rommath told her to hurry up. "It's not my fault you stalk about the place so fast with your long legs," she retorted.

"Do not attempt to goad me, woman," he snapped, "unless you want to find yourself locked in your room for the next month."

"You wouldn't dare!"

"I'm tempted to," he replied as they entered the Spire and approached the Regent-Lord. Braelyn was about to start yelling when she caught sight of two uniformed people standing alongside Lor'themar, Halduron, and Aethas. They were both clad in the tabard of the Argent Crusade and were speaking about their need for new recruits. One of them was an Orc, but the other one was human. For a moment, she felt an insane flicker of hope course through her body; then the human turned around.

Braelyn froze in horror, as she realised that her deception was at an end already. The male Crusader was no stranger to her; it was Anders, one of her father's oldest friends, and his shocked expression told her that the recognition was mutual.

"Braelyn Hawke!" Anders exclaimed loudly "What on Azeroth are you doing here?"

The silence was so loud that Braelyn swore she could hear what was being said in Undercity. She looked wildly about the room; Aethas was looking sympathetic, while Lor'themar and Halduron seemed surprised. Her flight response kicked in, but before she could move, Rommath's hand tightened around her arm, causing her to drop her basket.

"Hawke?" he said, barely concealing a smirk. "As in Archmage Ellysan Hawke, of the Kirin Tor?"

Braelyn groaned, hanging her head, as if her hair could shield her from the approaching doom.

_Wait... when did my mother join the Kirin Tor?_

"Why, yes," Anders replied. "Ellysan is her mother. Her father, Jasper Hawke, is an old friend of mine. Child," he added, looking at Braelyn, "why are you here? Don't you know how worried your parents are? Your cousin told them you were most likely dead, but then Elly got a message saying you'd been abducted by a death knight!"

"Odariah's alive?" Braelyn demanded, head snapping up to look at the Crusader.

"Yes, alive and well; along with that strapping Night Elf lad of hers."

Braelyn was so relieved that she started to cry. "Thank the Light!"

"Braelyn is a... guest of ours," Lor'themar explained. "And will remain with us until we discuss this new information with the Alliance," he added, seeing Anders about to protest.

"I'm sure Lady Proudmoore will be happy to hear what you have to say, my Lord," Rommath said, practically purring with glee.

_Damn mages.  
_

* * *

AN - I struggled a bit with this chapter. I hope it's okay. I will probably revisit this once I get the story developed a bit more. I also thought it high time we got a good description of what out heroine looks like. She takes after Mum, bless her.

Next chapter: Lady Proudmoore's reaction, and Braelyn discovers some unnerving information about the extent of the Blood Elves' addiction to magic.


	8. Thalassian

_To: Archmage Ellysan Hawke, Stormwind_

_From: Lady Jaina Proudmoore, Dalaran._

_My dear friend,_

_I received word today about the fate of your daughter, Braelyn. Her abductor took her to Silvermoon City, where she is now a 'guest' of the Blood Elves. Apparently there was some initial confusion regarding her identity, which would explain the delay in discovering her location. I'm assuming that Sunreaver had something to do with revealing who she is, and, more importantly, who you are. _

_Lor'themar Theron assures me that she is unharmed, but I suspect that he intends to use her as leverage against me, possibly to secure the release of the Sunreavers still contained in the Violet Hold. He has not yet opened negotiations. I do not know why. Perhaps the situation in Pandaria is keeping him and his lackeys busy, as I know it is taking up much of my time._

_Elly, you are one of my dearest friends, and you know that I would spare you the pain of losing your daughter if I could, but you also know that what Theron will ask for is something I cannot give him. I will not allow those traitors to walk free, not when they threaten the safety of the Alliance. I swear that I will do all in my power to find a way to bring Braelyn home through alternate means, but do not trust in hope. These are dark days, my friend, and we all need to make sacrifices._

_I am sorry._

_Jaina._

* * *

Braelyn sat in the Bazaar, on her favourite bench near the fountain. It was early afternoon and, having completed her work for Rommath, she was now spending her free time observing the Silvermoon guards. She was attempting to memorize their patrol patterns, and timing how long they took to move through various parts of the city. The citizens of Silvermoon were becoming used to her presence, no longer glaring at her, but accepting her as a temporary fixture in their city. A few of the more open-minded Blood Elves would occasionally stop and speak to her, some asking about missing loved ones, in the hope she might have information.

It was two weeks since her captors had discovered her last name, and Braelyn was living in a state of anxiety and hope. Hope that she would be freed, but anxious about what would happen should negotiations fail. She was also impatient; the Regent Lord and both of his advisors were spending a great deal of time in Pandaria, which meant that they could not negotiate Braelyn's release.

Rommath had been so smug when he found out about her mother. He seemed to take great delight in the fact that Ellysan Hawke's daughter had about as much magical aptitude as a doorknob. The only thing that stopped Braelyn from slapping him silly was the fact that he now seemed to trust her with more complicated tasks, and had stopped speaking to her like she was an idiot. He acknowledged that as the child of a mage, she had an in-built respect for magic, and what it could do if abused. This lead to him including her in the lectures he gave his apprentices, something that Braelyn found she enjoyed, though she would rather die than admit it.

_And that's why I need to get out of here, _she thought, chewing on her bottom lip. _ I cannot get used to living here._

"Still planning your getaway, huh, toots?" a brash voice interrupted Braelyn's thoughts. She grinned happily at the Goblin standing in front of her.

"Of course, Boxer!" she exclaimed. "What else do I have to do all day?" She laughed. Meeting the Goblin had been the bright point of the past fortnight for Braelyn. She had run into him, literally, at Lorelai's place one day, and was surprised by his willingness to make friends with her. The sharp-eyed man was shrewd, could haggle like a champion, and was skilled in the art of annoying stuck-up Blood Elves, which was ironic considering his position as the Bilgewater ambassador to Silvermoon.

Braelyn adored him already.

"Ya know, B," Boxter said, "I could cut ya a great deal on some mail armour and a nice bow. My cousin Fizzlestix is a trader, just arrived in town today."

"If by 'great deal', you mean 'free', then sure," Braelyn laughed. "It's not like I'm rolling around in gold right now."

"Hey, I'm sure the Grand Magister wouldn't notice if ya lifted a few candlesticks or something, Sweet Pea."

"Oh, I'm pretty sure he would, Boxer, and I am not going to get myself violently murdered over a pair of candlesticks." The human and goblin shared a laugh, and Braelyn was just about to invite her new friend to afternoon tea at Rommath's expense, when she noticed a crowd beginning to gather in one of the far corners of the Bazaar.

"What's going on?" she asked, seeing two Blood Elf priests begin to preach. After a while, she heard the small crowd begin to mutter. Boxer grabbed her hand.

"Ignore 'em, B," he warned. "They ain't nothin' but trouble, those two, and you don't need more drama in ya life." The goblin tugged on her hand, but Braelyn ignored him, practically dragging him over to where the priests were preaching.

"Our leaders are traitors!" the male priest declared. "They betrayed our old alliances in favour of our enemies!"

"It was the Alliance who betrayed us!" someone yelled. "Thier own Prince attacked our cities."

"And it is the minions of that prince you now call friends!" the priestess replied. "The Forsaken are the same scourge who almost destroyed us!"

"And that is not our only problem!" the male continued. "Our addiction to magic has almost destroyed us time and again, but, look around you! Instead of seeking to curb our dependence, the magisters indulge in excesses, using magic as a crutch, to make their lives easier. It is madness! We must learn control!"

"Whoa, priest boy's gonna get himself lynched!" Boxer exclaimed.

Braelyn looked around at the crowd, agreeing with her friend. While there were a few people who appeared to agree with what was being said, most of the assembled elves were furious, some already calling out that magic was what made Silvermoon great, and that the priests should go back to living like savages in the forests. The two priests continued in their efforts, though, even going so far as to call the magisters traitors.

That was enough for Boxer. The ambassador grabbed Brealyn's hand and started pulling her away, grimacing as he noticed three magisters in crowd. They had started a summoning ritual. "We need to go, like, yesterday," he said. She allowed Boxer to drag her a few metres before she planted her feet. She, too, had noticed what the magisters were up to. "Why do you got to be so damn stubborn, B?" he muttered under his breath.

Braelyn watched on in curiosity as the magisters summoned a Priest to their location. It was someone she recognised; a male Blood Elf by the name of Kath'Mar. He was one of Lorelai's superiors, and wasn't as kind to Braelyn as her friend was. He was very distrustful, refusing to acknowledge Braelyn's presence once the introductions had been made.

She watched as Kath'Mar studied the small crowd with a frown on his face. He obviously disagreed with what his fellow priests were saying. Braelyn edged forward slowly, in order to hear what was being said. She didn't understand why she was so intrigued by what was going on; she just felt like she needed to bear witness. She frowned as she saw Kath'Mar raise his hands and cast some sort of spell on the other two priests. It was familiar to her... perhaps she'd seen Odariah cast it.

"That should do it," he said to the magisters. "Let me know if they get out of hand again." The magisters nodded their heads in thanks as Kath'Mar walked away. Confused, Braelyn looked to the preachers.

"The magisters will be our salvation!" the priest cried, raising his hands in the air as if enraptured. His female companion let out a cheer.

"Long live the Sin'dorei! Glory to the Horde!"

"B?" Boxer asked, placing a hand on Braelyn's waist.

"Mind control," Braelyn said numbly. "He mind controlled them..." She thought back to her own experience with the spell, and all the trouble that had happened since, and she felt sick to her stomach. Nobody deserved to have their free will taken away, especially when they were exercising their right to free speech. She allowed Boxer to take her back to Rommath's, and by the time she walked into the decadent foyer, her nausea had transformed into rage.

* * *

"I. Can't. Believe. These. People!" Braelyn snarled angrily as she brought the meat tenderiser down on an unsuspecting tiger steak as hard as she could. Because she was confined to the city, she could not indulge in her usual method of relieving anger, which was to go running in the forests. Instead she had to make do with ruining as much food as she could, which had so far been twelve prime cuts of tiger meat, a dozen apples, and three cream cakes. Rommath's cook, a young elf named Auriel, had fled in terror some half an hour previously.

Braelyn would feel bad about that tomorrow. Right now she had meat to destroy.

"Are you done?" a voice inquired coldly. Braelyn glared at Rommath, who had appeared in the doorway.

"No."

"I won't have you acting like this in _my_ house," the Grand Magister stated, trying to stare Braelyn down, but she was having none of it. "Especially over something that is none of your concern."

_He's been talking to Boxe__r_, she thought. "Seeing someone's rights violated is everyone's concern," Braelyn shot back. "Have you ever been mind controlled, Grand Magister? Because I have. It's how I ended up here. No one deserves that. Not when they are just expressing an opinion."

Rommath stalked around the table, and for the first time Braelyn noticed how tall he was, her nose barely reaching his shoulder. He stood in front of her, angrily folding his arms across his chest. "They were not expressing an opinion, they were sowing dissent!"

"Dissent! How is pointing out the obvious sowing dissent?" She questioned. "All they did was suggest you need to cut back on the magic..."

"If it wasn't for magic, this city would still be a pile of smouldering rubble!" Rommath growled, as Braelyn stuck her chin out stubbornly.

"There's a big difference between using magic to rebuild a city, and using it to sweep your floors," she spat. Rommath's eyes flashed dangerously. "And it's not as if they were saying that the magisters should be taken out back and shot either, so, I ask again, Rommath, where is the dissent?"

"I know what they've been saying about the magisters," Rommath replied, softly, and the hairs on the back of Braelyn's neck stood on end. "They call us traitors, betrayers of our race." He stepped forward, forcing her to take a step backwards in order to maintain eye contact. "In doing so, they cause my people to doubt our loyalties, and to question us. They refute our authority, sow chaos, and seek to divide the Sin'dorei."

Rommath moved forward again, this time not stopping until Braelyn was pushed against some cupboards. He raised his arms, trapping her where she stood. She could feel the anger rolling off him in waves, and began to feel claustrophobic. Braelyn could see the muscles along his long arms and broad shoulders flex as he braced himself either side of her head. His lips were a thin white line in the sharp angles of his face, and his eyes glowed with an inner fire. She couldn't understand how other people got male and female Blood Elves mixed up. Rommath was definitely _male_.

Braelyn had to fight to keep herself from trembling and looking away. She wasn't going to back down, not when she was right, even as she realised that his proximity was making her oddly forgetful about why they were arguing.

"Division leads to betrayal and death," he said, breath puffing gently across Braelyn's cheeks, and she suddenly felt like she couldn't turn away, even if she wanted to. "I have seen enough of that to last a thousand lifetimes. I will not see my people destroy themselves again, so l do what needs to be done to make sure we stay united."

Braelyn felt her anger wane. She still questioned his methods, but she could not fault his intentions. The passion with which he spoke could only come from a genuine love for his people, a desire to look out for their best interests. Besides, who was she to judge? She had no idea how King Varian dealt with all his subjects; chances are he employed tactics just as questionable. Light knows, she was well aware of how the Defias Brotherhood got started, and how the Stormwind refugees were treated out in Westfall.

She raised a hand and placed it hesitantly on one of Rommath's arms. "What they said about the Alliance..." she began, but paused when Rommath scoffed.

"They forget much."

"Perhaps they remember," Braelyn argued. "Many humans died defending Quel'Thalas from the Lich King," she pointed out. "_You_ remember that, right?"

"I know more about those days than you could ever hope to," Rommath said. "Those human deaths were but nothing compared to the lives my people lost because of men like Garithos. Our loyalty, our friendship repaid with betrayal and death."

"We aren't all like Garithos!" Braelyn protested.

"Maybe not," he replied, gazing at her intensely. She felt her heart start to race as a rush of warmth overwhelmed her. "But too many are, and I can neither forget, nor forgive." He pushed himself away from her with an enviable grace, and stalked out of the room before she had time to register his movement.

Braelyn released a breath she didn't know she'd been holding. She put both hands over her heart, and tried to calm herself down. But no matter what she said to herself, she couldn't escape the realisation that something between her and the Grand Magister had changed.

* * *

Braelyn wasn't proud of herself; she was being a coward. Instead of dealing with the fact that she now recognised that Rommath was a complex individual (and a very handsome one at that), and not just her jailor, she was avoiding him as much as possible. She got up early, did her chores, and escaped into the city. She no longer read in the library, but took her books to her room, replacing them only when Rommath was out of the house. She spent so much time wandering the streets that she was able to tell all the guards apart. She was now so familiar with the city's layout, that if she'd had the gear, she'd be half way to Stormwind by now.

_You can't deal with emotional conflict when you're on the run, _she thought.

The Grand Magister himself gave no clue as to whether he was aware of her suffering, treating her the same as he always had. This made Braelyn feel worse. Did he feel like something had changed as well, or was he oblivious? Did he even realise that she was avoiding him? If he did realise, did he care?

"Ya gonna have to talk to him eventually, Sweet Pea," Boxer said, laughing as Braelyn jumped and blushed furiously. He found the whole situation hilarious. While Braelyn was confused about her feelings, he knew very well that the young human was attracted to the Blood Elf. Goblins were very upfront about such things, though he could understand why she was still in denial.

"No, I don't. I'm going to avoid him until I escape. Then I'll forget he even exists," Braelyn said, handing a pile of freshly made bandages to Lorelai. The Goblins had gifted the supplies to the Blood Elves as a sign of friendship, and she had decided to help the priests turn the material into something useful. Plus, it gave her a chance to death glare Kath'Mar all she wanted.

Lorelai sighed. "Are you still thinking about escaping?" she asked. She thought Braelyn was better off staying in the city, and trusting in the Regent Lord's negotiating skills. Braelyn nodded, but said nothing. She didn't want to get Lorelai into any trouble, not when she knew the priest's boss could mind control her into doing something terrible.

She decided to change the topic, telling them about how she'd first met Andorien in Lakeshire. She'd just gotten to the part where she'd multi-shotted about three targets too many, when she heard a commotion by the door.

"You cannot bring that foul thing in here!" Kath'Mar yelled, gesturing at an imp that was cackling maniacally as it danced about. The imp's owner, a statuesque red-headed woman, ignored him, walking into the room. Her green eyes swept over the assembled people imperiously, coming to rest on Braelyn. Flicking her hair over her shoulder, she made her way to where the human was sitting.

"This is Rommath's little slave, correct?" she asked Lorelai in Thalassian, voice loud and full of arrogance. It took all of Braelyn's self-control not to start twitching.

_Slave? Damn warlock bitch, who does she think she is_? she thought.

"This is his _guest_, Braelyn," Lorelai corrected, as sternly as she could. Which wasn't much, as Lorelai was one of the loveliest people in existence, and a priest. It was hard for a priest to out bitch a warlock. Said warlock just sniffed and waved her hand in contempt.

"I don't care what her name is," she said. "Rommath sent me to fetch her. We need her."

"For what exactly?" Boxer said, eyeing the warlock with suspicion.

"That's no concern of yours, Goblin," she replied scornfully. "Now come along, human."

With a resigned glance at her friends, Braelyn followed the warlock back to the Grand Magister's residence. The elf woman ignored her, which was fine by Braelyn, but the stupid imp made a nuisance of itself the entire trip. She got so sick of trying not to step on the demon that in the end she gave up and ended up punting it halfway down the Walk of Elders. The warlock didn't even bat an eyelash, which surprised Braelyn.

_If anyone had done that to one of my pets, they'd have gotten an arrow to the face._

Rommath was waiting for them in his laboratory, and Braelyn forgot her anger at the warlock in favour of a new wave of embarrassment. She fidgeted nervously as he directed her over to a bench and told her to start cutting up some herbs. Without a word, she did as she was told.

The warlock's name was Denaria Daybreak, and she and Rommath had apparently known each other since the dawn of time. She had enlisted the magister's help in developing a potion to aid the Wretched, those poor Blood Elves that had succumbed to their magic addiction. Because Braelyn had let slip that she was a herbalist, Rommath decided that she could have the honour of sorting out and cutting up all the herbs they'd need for their experiments.

In a way, Braelyn was happy to have been volunteered for the job; she felt sorry for the Wretched, and thought it was great that someone was trying to help them. Yet, after a few days spent almost exclusively in Rommath and Denaria's company, she was about ready to stab herself in the eye.

From the start, Denaria went out of her way to be unpleasant to the human. Braelyn was used to such behaviour, though, and was able to ignore it. What was intolerable was the fact that Denaria was obviously interested in Rommath, and flirted with him shamelessly. It made Braelyn's own confused emotions crystallise in her mind, something she wasn't ready to deal with. Yet it was hard to deny being attracted to Rommath when every time the flame-haired hussy went near him, Braelyn wanted to set her perfectly coiffed hair on fire.

Making everything worse was the fact that Braelyn could not let on that she was upset, because the Blood Elves only ever spoke in Thalassian, except when ordering her about.

At night, Braelyn would relive the argument she and Rommath had in the kitchen, and her imagination ran wild. Her sleep became sporadic and plagued by nightmares, and she began to lose weight. Still Rommath behaved as if nothing had changed. _Perhaps, for him, nothing has_, she thought sadly. She did not understand why her heart seemed to set itself on unobtainable men.

Eventually, Braelyn's lack of sleep and restless mind were to catch up with her. Rommath had asked her to rearrange some of Denaria's potion samples while he and the warlock studied some obscure alchemy textbooks. It was a tedious process for them all, and it did not take long for Denaria to resume trying to worm her way into Rommath's arms. While the warlock usually limited herself to words, tonight she actually poured herself onto Rommath's lap, winding her arms around his neck.

Braelyn tried to beat down the white-hot surge of jealousy that clouded her mind, as Rommath merely raised an eyebrow at the woman in his lap. "Bored are we?" he drawled. Denaria grinned.

"Very," she said, and Braelyn thought that Thalassian had never sounded so seductive. "How about we go upstairs and have some fun?"

Braelyn's reaction was immediate; she gasped loudly and dropped the handful of vials she was carrying, causing them to shatter on the tiled floor. The thick green liquid formed a pool at her feet, but she didn't care. She was too busy staring at the Blood Elf warlock in a fit of jealous pique.

"You clumsy oaf!" Denaria yelled, leaping to her feet. "Watch what you're doing! Rommath, I thought you said this girl was competent."

"I am not clumsy, you stupid, stuck-up cow!" Braelyn retorted in Thalassian. She did not register her mistake until she heard Rommath's harsh gasp, and saw Denaria's surprised expression. She slapped a hand over her mouth and stared at Rommath in horror. The magister looked livid as he got to his feet. She turned and tried to flee, but he caught her before she reached the door and slammed her against a table. He glared down at her.

"Something else you forgot to mention?"

* * *

AN - oooh, angry Rommath is angry!

Next chapter: Rommath accuses Braelyn of being a spy, and an unlikely person comes to her defence. Braelyn's failing strength prompts Boxer and Lorelai to take drastic action.


	9. Three hundred cats

Of all the things he could have felt, betrayed was the most illogical. Nevertheless, Rommath was feeling exactly that as his hands tightened around Braelyn's arms_. I was beginning to think she was different_, he thought_, that she wasn't deceitful like the rest of her kind. More fool me. _

The young human whimpered slightly, and he noticed that, for a change, she didn't look angry or rebellious. Instead, she looked distressed, avoiding his gaze as she tried to free herself from his grasp. "Stop struggling or I _will_ bind you," he ordered, and Braelyn complied immediately. He could feel the tremors racking her body.

_She's right to fear me._

"It was just a ploy, wasn't it?" he asked, and Braelyn finally raised her eyes to his. She had the gall to look confused. "Who do you work for, Miss Hawke? SI: 7? The Kirin Tor?"

"Wh... what are you talking about?" Braelyn stammered, wincing as Rommath tightened his grip and glared down at her.

"Stop taking me for a fool!" he yelled. "Your arrival here was no accident! You were sent here as a spy, weren't you? How much did you have to pay that death knight filth to bring you here? As much as Halduron did to 'free' you? How angry he's going to be when he hears how he threw so much wealth away for the sake of a liar."

"How dare you?!" Braelyn cried. "That man killed my friend, and would've killed the others if he could have. He kept me like a slave, wanted to use me as bait to kill other Alliance! I wanted to die, rather than go with him." She tore herself out of his grip, throwing herself into a corner. She curled up into a ball, and began rocking herself back and forth. Rommath paused, surprised when the human began to sob loudly. He had never seen her in such a state, and he felt a small pang of regret that it was because of him. Shaking his head, he quashed the feeling ruthlessly. She did not deserve any mercy from him.

"Rommath, dear, do you really think this wretched creature is capable of being a spy?" Denaria interrupted. "I know spies are meant to be good actors, but, really," she added, gesturing at Braelyn's shuddering form. "Pathetic."

"She knows Thalassian, Denaria," Rommath said, "something that she conveniently neglected to mention." The warlock shrugged her elegant shoulders.

"You said her mother is a mage," she replied. "Lots of mages know Thalassian. Perhaps Mummy dearest passed the knowledge along to her sweet little girl. Language skills are a very useful thing for adventurers to have. Besides, if she were a spy, don't you think she'd be more interested in getting close to Lor'themar or Halduron?"

Rommath paused. Denaria had made a good point. Braelyn had never expressed a desire to spend time around the Blood Elf leader; in fact, she seemed to want to avoid him as much as possible. While she did spend a lot of time wandering around the city, she was nearly always with Lorelai or the Goblin Ambassador, and the guards always had her in sight. Even if she were memorizing the city's layout, it wasn't anything that the Alliance was unfamiliar with anyway. Raids were rare, but they did happen.

He sighed, a great deal of his anger fading away as he realised he had overreacted. "Why did you not say that you could speak our language,' he asked Braelyn in Thalassian. The woman sniffled and raised her head.

"Because I was afraid," she replied, a tear trailing down one cheek. "I thought that you guys would immediately think I was a spy and kill me, or that you'd keep me in the dungeons. Please, don't send me back to the dungeons," she begged.

Rommath sighed. "It's all right," he said. "I won't send you to the dungeons. However, I think it's best that you retire for the night; we will need to speak to the Regent-Lord tomorrow." He watched as Braelyn nodded, then bent down to help her to her feet. The human backed away from him, getting to her feet unassisted. She looked at him hesitantly, as if about to say something, then shook her head. She was silent as she disappeared through the door.

Behind him, Denaria let out a mocking laugh. Rommath ignored her, calling for Auriel and asking the chef to fetch the priestess, Lorelai. The Grand Magister could not shake the feeling that he had made a terrible mistake.

* * *

Lor'themar Theron had not been pleased to hear about Braelyn's unexpected language skill, but after making her drink a truth serum and answer a few questions, he was content to let her remain with Rommath. Halduron thought it was hilarious, especially when he realised that Braelyn knew he'd bought her off Lethallan, but had been unable to say anything. He didn't stop teasing her about it until Rommath got angry and threatened to set him on fire.

The hunter and the Grand Magister did not speak of that night, falling back into their old patterns of behaviour. If not for the catty comments of Denaria Daybreak, and the fact she now spoke mainly in Thalassian, Braelyn may have thought the whole thing nothing but a dream.

Braelyn thought at first that the fragile feelings that she had developed for Rommath had been crushed, but after a few days she realised that they had not disappeared. If anything, they appeared stronger, as she realised that her greatest fear that night had not been that she would be killed, but that she had somehow disappointed Rommath. That she had proven herself as dishonourable as Rommath considered most humans to be. Her emotions were becoming harder and harder to deal with as she could not be certain how the man in question felt, or if what she felt was even real, and as wonderful as Boxer and Lorelai were, she found it difficult to talk them about Rommath. She desperately wanted to see her cousin again, and Andorien. Andorien, in particular, always seemed to find a way to make the most troubling of situations easy to resolve.

She was thinking of her friends as she stood on her balcony, staring up at the White Lady. It was a warm night in Silvermoon, the summer seeming to last longer in this past of Azeroth. Braelyn headed back into her room as the town clock began chiming 11 o'clock. She tied her hair back in a bun before donning her silk nightgown and sliding into bed. She was exhausted, and fell asleep almost immediately. But there was to be no peace for her in dreams.

_Something is wrong, Braelyn thought. They had arrived at the Master's Glaive together, but when she turned around to talk to Andorien, her friends were gone. The sky was stormy, but the air was strangely still, and it was so damn quiet. She couldn't even hear the sound of her own footsteps._

_"Bitsie? 'RIah?" she called, disconcerted by the lack of response, or echo. "Andorien?" She swore as a group of Twilight's Hammer appeared at her left, but they didn't seem to notice Braelyn, continuing on their way as she if she were invisible. _

_What is going on?_

_Braelyn felt a very heavy body bump into her legs. She looked down, and had to fight the urge to scream. Growly was staring at her with pain-filled eyes, his jaw dislocated, and nose bleeding. Perched on his back was Giggle, her eyes gouged out, and great clumps of feathers missing from her coat. The bear growled at her, nudged her leg again, and took off running._

_"Growly, wait," Braelyn called, following them. Even though she was running, too, it felt like she had been hit with a Frostfire Bolt. It seemed to take forever to round the small copse of trees her pets had vanished behind._

_Braelyn froze in astonishment. She was no longer at the Master's Glaive, but in Warsong Gulch. Now realising that this was a nightmare, she moved to where she had been found by Bitsie. The dreamscape was every bit as horrifying as the real thing had been, the only saving grace being the absence of smell. She felt her stomach twist painfully as she went past the still form of the Blood Elf rogue, wondering if she had made it out alive. Her head snapped up as she heard a soft sobbing sound coming from up ahead._

_"Bitsie!" she called out happily, as she saw the pink-haired gnome kneeling up ahead. Oh, how she'd missed the little rogue. Braelyn stopped short when she saw her own body laying in front of her friend. Logically, she knew that this was a dream, knew that she had survived this battle, but what she was seeing startled her. _

_A long, jagged piece of wood protuded from false-Braelyn's chest, and the ground around her was saturated with blood. A thin red stream trickled out of her mouth and nose and stained her hair, which had come loose from its binding. Bitsie was crying, small hands shaking as she poured potion after potion down the dead hunter's throat. The 'real' Braelyn shuddered in horror at all the blood._

_She blinked, and was back at the Master's Glaive. _

_She heard Bitsie scream, and looked up to see Lethallan impaling the rogue on his sword. "No!" Braelyn cried, but was swiftly silenced. She looked around for her cousin, falling to her knees when she saw Odariah slumped over by a tree,arrows sticking out of her eye and neck. She felt herself begin to dry heave as she recognised the arrows as coming from her own quiver. There was a roar of primal fury as Andorien came charging out of nowhere in bear form, slamming into Lethallan, and ripping the death knight's arm off._

_Lethallan merely laughed, viciously stabbing at the druid with his other arm. With an agonising bellow, Andorien transformed back into his normal form, staggering backwards to land beside Odariah. The death knight chuckled coldly as he faded out of existence._

_"Brae... lyn," Andorien said with a ragged breath. "Where are you?" Braelyn stumbled over to the Night Elf, falling to her knees and attempting to hold his hand. It passed right through him. She tried again and again, each time failing to make contact._

_"I'm here, Andorien!" she cried desperately. "I'm here, I'm here!"_

_The druid didn't hear her. He reached a hand above his head, as if beseeching the heavens. "Why... did you... leave us," he said, voice fading out. "How could... you forget about... me, Brael..." With a deep, shuddering breath, Andorien's life ended, those burning silver eyes snuffed out, hand falling to the ground with a heavy thud._

_"ANDORIEN!"_

* * *

It was a rare night that Rommath got to bed before midnight, and he planned to make the most of it. Donning a pair of silk sleeping pants, he climbed into bed as the clock struck eleven and extinguished the lamps. As he lay down, he attempted to put his human guest out of his mind. It was clear to him that something was eating away at her; she had started to avoid him after their argument in the kitchen, and since the incident the other night, she had become so quiet and compliant. It was unnatural seeing the woman without that headstrong tilt to her chin, ready to challenge him about anything and everything.

Rommath wasn't sure he liked her acting like this. Was she plotting something?

An hour later, and he had to admit defeat. Muttering under his breath about troublesome humans, he stalked out to the library. If he couldn't sleep, then he may as well get some reading done. As he walked by Braelyn's room, he overheard her cry out, as if in pain. Rommath paused, body tensing. There was a few seconds of silence followed by another cry, this one more intense than the first.

Without thinking, Rommath flung the bedroom door wide open. He strode inside, noting that the lamps were still on. Wimpering drew his attention to the bed, where Braelyn had kicked her sheets to floor. The human was in the grip of night terrors, her long legs kicking madly against the mattress as if she were trying to run. Her arms flailed wildly, clutching at her chest as if she'd been stabbed. Rommath walked over and sat by her, carefully gathering her arms in his hands as she mumbled incoherently, tears streaming down her face.

Rommath frowned. What could be terrifying her so badly? She let out a shriek, her torso arching up off the bed, and he decided that he needed to wake her up before she hurt herself. "Braelyn! Wake up!" he commanded firmly, giving her a gentle shake. The woman remained asleep, struggling even more. "Stubborn, even in her sleep," he mused.

He heard her mutter something about arrows, before she screamed again. Her body slumped back towards the mattress, and Rommath guided her to her rest. Thinking that the nightmare was over, he stood up, only to sit down again as Braelyn flung herself forward with a heartbreaking wail of grief, her eyes widening in terror.

"ANDORIEN!"

Rommath slid his arms around her as Braelyn tried to get out of the bed. He had the feeling that if he didn't stop her, she'd go running through the house, if not the city. Her hands beat wildly against his chest and arms, but he held firm, and eventually she calmed down, her hands coming to rest on his chest as her head fell onto his shoulder. He adjusted his grip, so that she was comfortable against him, and patted her head. It was probably not the appropriate thing to do, but the last thing he needed was to be seen chasing a half-dressed human woman through the streets in the middle of the night. Halduron alone would have a field day.

"It was just a dream," he said softly when he was sure that she would hear. "You are safe." He felt her nod against him, but she made no attempt to leave his embrace. This puzzled him at first, but then he was sidetracked by the memory of what she'd screamed as she woke up.

Andorien.

It was a name; the name of a male Night Elf by the sounds of it. Her lover, perhaps? Rommath frowned, not liking how uneasy the thought made him. Lovers tended to do stupid things to avenge their mate... like launch raids in order to recover them.

Absent-mindedly, his arms tightened around her. He started stroking her hair again, marvelling at how soft it was. Just as soft as any Blood Elf woman's. He was oddly pleased when she leaned into him. It made a nice change from being yelled at and constantly challenged.

He pulled back slightly, enough so he could look Braelyn in the eyes. They were red and puffy, but she was calm. "Who is Andorien?" he asked, quirking an eyebrow when she looked like she had been punched in the face.

"He was... _is_,a... friend," Braelyn said, but the way her blue eyes darted to the side suggested that she wasn't being entirely truthful. Rommath was intrigued by her stumble over past and current tense.

He raised a hand and trailed a graceful finger down the woman's cheek. He smirked slightly as Braelyn blushed, feeling her delicate skin heat up under his.

"No," he murmured, "more than a friend."

He wondered why he felt so disappointed.

* * *

"Am I crazy, Lorelai?" Braelyn asked after telling her friends about what had happened the night before. "I mean, I must be crazy. I'm his hostage, he's keeping here against my will, and yet when he held me I thought I was going to spontaneously combust!"

"You're not crazy," Lorelai replied firmly, glaring at Boxer as the goblin started laughing

"Nah, ya crazy all right, B. Crazy in loooooove," he hooted, slapping his knee.

"I am not in love with him!" she hissed. "It's just a stupid crush or something."

Lorelai patted Braelyn on the back. . "You're under a lot of stress right now, so you're bound to suffer a bit of emotional confusion. Besides, as a Blood Elf, I can attest to how attractive Rommath is. He's probably the most eligible bachelor in town, after the Regent Lord, of course."

"Oh, well, that's great!" Braelyn said sarcastically. "If I have to have the hots for a Blood Elf, then it's nice to know I have great taste. Makes me feel all better."

Lorelai stared at Braelyn, nonplussed. "I am just saying."

"I just wish I knew what was going on with him. Although, even if he did feel something for me, it doesn't really change anything. I'm human, he's never going to be happy with that." Braelyn rubbed her cheek in frustration. "I need to go home guys. I need to go to my parents and yell at them for getting me into this mess. Then I shall tell the King he can take his job offer and shove it, before moving to a cottage in the middle of a forest with my three hundred cats, where I can forget all about the Grand Magister of Silvermoon. I shall forever be known as Braelyn, the Crazy Cat Lady."

"It won't be long now, Braelyn," Lorelai soothed. "The Regent Lord will find a way to compromise with the Alliance, you'll see."

"But it's taking so long," the human whined. "It could be years!"

"How about Friday?" Boxer asked. Braelyn snorted, while Lorelai looked doubtful.

"Do be serious!" the priest said in exasperation. "That's highly unlikely, even for the most silver-tongued of diplomats."

"Hey, I'm _completely_ serious," Boxer said, and Braelyn was startled to see that he had indeed assumed a more serious stance. For the first time since she'd met him, the Goblin didn't have a mischievous twinkle in his eyes, and he wasn't smiling.

"How could I leave by Friday?"

"Remember me telling ya about my cousin, the traveling merchant?" the goblin asked. Braelyn nodded. "It just so happens that he'll be set up at the crossroads in front of Silvermoon Friday morning, waiting for some suppliers to come through."

"How is that going to help Braelyn?" Lorelai inquired.

"Well, it just so happens that he has in his possession numerous items that a young hunter might need on a journey through the Ghostlands to, say, Light's Hope Chapel," the Goblin explained, twiddling his thumbs. "Now, it may be that a certain Goblin diplomat, out of the goodness of his heart, has paid for those items, and asked the travelling merchant to wait until a particular hunter comes along to claim them."

Braelyn gaped, unable to fully comprehend what Boxer was saying. "Are you saying that you want me to make a run for it?" she asked. Boxer nodded.

"I can't take watching ya drive yaself crazy, B," he said. "And I know ya; if ya don't go soon, ya heart will force ya to stay."

"Are you out of your mind, Boxter?" Lorelai hissed. "Do you know how dangerous it is out there, even for the Horde? Eversong Wood is heavily patrolled, yet we still lose Outrunners on a daily basis, and don't even get me started on Ghostlands! The Lich King may be dead but that place is still rife with the Scourge. It's madness!"

"I know, elfie," Boxer said, "but she has a chance out there. Here, she's just waiting for the axe to fall."

"That's not true!" the priest protested. "There's still a chance!"

"Do you honestly believe that?" the goblin challenged. Lorelai opened her mouth to speak, but hesitated. "I thought not."

"But, Boxer," Braelyn whispered, hope beginning to take root, "you're job... this is treason!"

"I know, toots," he said, "which is why we're gonna have to be real careful, make it look like theft."

"Why are you going to all this trouble for a human?" Lorelai questioned.

"Hey, I ain't got no problems with humans," Boxer said. "I'm quite fond of them, actually. I remember when all the Goblin cartels were neutral; had some great times out in Tanaris and Ratchet with the Alliance races. Made some good coin, too, as part of the Steamwheedles.

"But I married a Bilgewater, and one with connections to Gallywix, so here I am."

"Oh," Braelyn said. "I would've thought that what the Alliance did to the Bilgewaters would've made you hate humans."

"Hey, not all humans are Alliance, B. You ain't."

"No, not me," she agreed, then frowned suddenly, her forehead wrinkling in concern. "But it's useless... there's no point having gear waiting if..."

Braelyn's words were cut off as part of the Bazaar exploded. Thick black smoke filled the air, and a shockwave sent Lorelai and Boxer flying backwards. Braelyn was flung into the fountain, and she started choking as ice-cold water flooded her mouth.

She hauled herself up and out of the pool, and panted heavily. The smoke began to clear, and she saw Silvermoon's citizens running madly for shelter as the guards called for backup. Arrows and magic flew through the air, and her eyes widened as she discovered why.

"For the Alliance!" a human warrior yelled before flinging himself off his mount and unto the nearest guard.

_A raid?_ Braelyn thought. _A raid!_ With excitement she started to run towards a group of Alliance healers. She opened her mouth to scream at them, when she was yanked backwards.

"Oh, no you don't, bitch!" Denaria Dayback said, pushing the human away from the raiders. Braelyn pulled herself free, and punched the warlock in the face. She had the satisfaction of seeing the elf hit the ground hard, stunned but not unconscious.

"Nice hit, lassie!" a male voice said in Common, and Braelyn found herself standing next to a Dwarf paladin. They had to duck and weave as a couple of guards ran through them to get to a druid.

"Are you real?" Braelyn asked, not entirely convinced she wasn't hallucinating. It seemed rather convenient to have an Alliance raiding party magically appear right where she was. From what she heard, they usually headed straight for the Court of the Sun to challenge the Regent Lord.

"Aye," the Dwarf laughed. He grabbed her arm and pulled her out of the way of a Draenei shaman. "Very real. Now, would ye happen to be Braelyn Hawke?"

"Yes," she replied, pushing the dwarf forwards so he missed an arrow to the head.

"I'm Declan Hammerhand, I know ye pa."

"Who doesn't," Braelyn muttered. She looked around anxiously. More and more guards were appearing, and she knew it wouldn't be long before Lor'themar appeared with Halduron. _ And Rommath_, she thought painfully. The raiders would have to leave soon, or else face being trapped. There wasn't enough time to open portals, and flight was out of the question here. Something in the air prevented all but official Horde mounts from getting airborne.

"It took a bit o' hard work and spyin', but Lady Proudmoore found ye, and sent us," Declan said, sidestepping an ice lance. "Oi, Severen!" he yelled at a nearby Night Elf hunter. "I found 'er. Get 'er outta here!"

Declan pushed Braelyn at the elf, who picked her up and threw her over his shoulder before heading to where a chestnut coloured horse was kicking at a few Horde heroes. She let out a sharp rush of air as she was dumped unceremoniously across the horse's back. Severen hoisted himself into the saddle, then reached back and helped Braelyn seat herself properly.

"Hold on tight, dear," he said, then spurred his horse onwards.

"Victory for the Alliance!" the raid leader screamed, and with a loud cheer, the raiders began to make their escape, fighting their way through to their mounts. Braelyn noticed that they were heading in separate directions, scattering so the guards would not know who to go after first.

The Blood Elves did not seem to notice that Braelyn was being carried off. _Or perhaps they do, and they just don't care_, she thought. She let out a startled cry as Severen leapt over a few fallen Silvermoon guards. "Do you even know where you're going?" she yelped.

"Not really!" Severen laughed. "But we'll get there!" Braelyn pointed to a pathway that would lead them out of the city. The horse raced forward, only to rear in panic as a wall of flame suddenly blocked the way.

"Shit!" Braelyn swore as she was nearly unseated. She tightened her grip on her Night Elf rescuer as he wheeled the frightened steed around. Her heart leapt in her chest as she saw a lone figure step into their path. "Rommath... "

The Grand Magister looked _magnificent_ as he stood in the midst of battle. His long black hair whipped around his head with the wind, and he held one hand in front of him, flames licking at his fingertips. His green eyes blazed with fury, and his other hand held his staff at an angle behind his back.

"Release her," Rommath commanded, voice colder than the Void. His eyes narrowed in distaste as Severen's hand dropped down to cover Braelyn's. "I will not tell you a second time, Kal'dorei."

"I don't think so," Severen said. "I wouldn't leave my dog in your company, _Sin'dorei_, let alone a lady." He kicked his heels into the horse's flanks, urging it forward. It charged right at Rommath, veering sharply to the right at the last moment.

Rommath's hand shot forward, and for a moment, Braelyn felt him grip the hem of her pale green dress. She looked him in the eyes, and felt an almost overwhelming urge to throw herself into his arms. She heard Severen urge his horse to move faster, and then she was racing forward, free of the Grand Magister's grip.

She was still looking into his eyes when they rounded a corner and disappeared out of the city.

* * *

AN- I had a lot of time on my hands today, so you get an early update.

Raiding Silvermoon is kind of fun, especially with the no flying thing.

Next Chapter: Braelyn finds out just how dangerous Quel'thalas can be. And Lor'themar decides he won't let Jaina win.


	10. Randall Garret, Professional Busybody

"So, what's the plan?" Braelyn asked as Severen guided his mount through Eversong Woods. They were moving so quickly that all she could make out of her surroundings were flashes of green and gold. They had to avoid the major roads, of course, so were hightailing it through the forest.

Braelyn heard shouts behind her; the Silvermoon guards were in pursuit. She was surprised to feel a little disappointed that it wasn't Rommath.

"We make for the border with Ghostlands, where we'll meet up with the rest of my party," Severen explained. "Those that survived, anyway. Then we summon a portal back to Stormwind, and reunite you with your family, though the King'll probably want a word with you as well."

"What happens if none of the mages made it?"

"Then we ride to the Western Plaguelands. We can get help from the Argent Crusade at Light's Hope Chapel, maybe even one of their towers." Severen patted one of Braelyn's hands. "But first we need to find somewhere to stop and get you geared up."

"Geared up? Why?" she asked.

"Because it might take a while for the others to make the meeting place. We were told to wait twenty-four hours, then leave if no one else showed up. But, even though we're sure we picked a safe place, Ghostlands is still a dangerous place. There are plenty of things around to hurt us; the Scourge remnants, Blood Elves, even the Forsaken!

"I'd feel more secure if you're able to help with defense. Lady Proudmoore said you're a hunter?"

"Yes," Braelyn replied, "though it feels like an age has passed since I last held a bow! I feel naked without one." Severen threw his head back and laughed.

"I can appreciate that feeling! Don't worry, I've got a nice spare you can use, some armour as well. Only leather, mind you."

"That would be fantastic!" Braelyn said happily. "I prefer leather, anyway. I've never felt comfortable in mail. Seems too bulky, and loud!"

"I felt that way, too, at first. Then I found a trainer in Darnassus who helped me adapt, and taught me how to move around in it. Was expensive, but worth it! Not only does it offer more protection, but it's more durable."

"I'll keep that in mind," Braelyn said, and laughed happily as Severen swerved around a tree and down an embankment. The laugh died when she saw what lay ahead of them.

It was the Dead Scar.

And it was more horrible than Braelyn had ever imagined it. She'd read about it, tucked away in Rommath's library, and knew that it was bad... bad, but not this bad.

The Scar was several metres wide, and nothing grew within in it, the edges of the green forest floor standing out in stark contrast to the tainted ground. The soil was blackened, and reeked of death and decay, and everywhere she looked, Braelyn could see the remnants of the Lich King's undead army.

"Light's breath!" she exclaimed. Severen patted her hand again.

"I know it's awful," he said, "but riding this close to the Scar is the quickest route out of Eversong. It's also the best chance we have to escape our pursuers." He dug his heels in to his mount's flanks, and with the sudden burst of speed they began to lose the Blood Elves behind them.

After about an hour, Severen stopped in front of an abandoned Sin'dorei tower. It was in bad shape, with one side of the building completely missing, and the roof partly collapsed. It would do as a temporary shelter; it was easily defendable, but also looked like an unlikely place for a runaway to hide.

As they dismounted, Severen grabbed his bow, whistling for his nightsabre, Dusk. "Stay with my mount, while I clear the area. If anything happens, I want you to take her and head for the Plaguelands, south-west of here. You'll find everything you need in the saddlebags."

Braelyn nodded, and watched in anxiety as the Night Elf approached the tower. He was wise to act cautiously; the tower was infested with ghouls. She was impressed with how easily Severen killed them, his bond with Dusk making them quite a team. She felt a pang of grief in her heart for Giggle and Growly, and had to blink away tears.

"It's clear," Severen called out, and Braelyn lead the horse over to the tower. She tethered the mare inside the tower, so that it could not be seen by anything passing by. "Let's get you out of that dress," he added, laughing when Braelyn blushed. He handed her a saddle bag, and she opened it to find a familiar set of leathers.

"This is my old armour!" she exclaimed. Severen grinned.

"Your mother gave it to us, she said you'd be more comfortable in your own gear than a random store-bought set."

"She was right!" Braelyn said happily, and waited for the other hunter to turn his back before stripping off and donning the armour. "Oh, this feels much better!" She turned around, and Severen handed her a simple wooden longbow. She clipped it to her back, relishing the feeling of being a hunter again.

"Now, I just need a pet," she said, eyeing Dusk sadly.

"There are some lynxes and dragonhawks about the forest, I think," Severen said. "If we're quick, you should be able to tame one before we have to leave again."

"Okay," said Braelyn, "but are you sure you don't want to rest?"

"Too keyed up to relax," Severen replied with a slightly feral gleam in his eye. "A good hunt is just what I need. Besides, Dusk needs to eat after that run."

"Well, let's go then!" Braelyn exclaimed, and followed her new friend into the forest.

* * *

To say the Lor'theron was mad, would be to make the understatement of a lifetime. He was furious. He strode about the city barking out orders, and seeking information in such a rage that his people were more frightened of him then they had been of the Alliance raiders.

"Did we manage to capture or kill _any_ of them?" he demanded, glaring at Halduron. The Ranger General shook his head.

"No, my Lord, they were very quick," Halduron replied. "They stopped only long enough to grab the girl. I don't understand how they knew to go the Bazaar to find her. Surely, they should have gone to the dungeons first?"

"Proudmoore," spat a furious voice behind them. Rommath strode up to them, his countenance even angrier than that of the Regent Lord's. People were actually fleeing from his presence. "This whole thing reeks of Kirin Tor involvement."

"Do we have any idea which way they went? What their plans are?" Lor'themar asked testily.

"I saw that filthy Kal'dorei take Braelyn towards the main gate while the rest of his party fled in all directions to try and confuse us. They will no doubt head into the Ghostlands in an attempt to lose us, perhaps to meet up and summon portals to Dalaran or Stormwind." The Grand Magister snarled, his fist clenching. "I almost had her! She literally slipped right through my fingers!"

"Go and find her," Lor'themar ordered. "If you and Halduron ride hard, you might be able to catch up with them. At the very least, you might stumble onto their mages. Take care of them, and the others will have no choice but to ride for the Plaguelands, and the longer they stay in our territory, the easier it will be to capture them."

Rommath needed no more encouragement, stalking away to the stables to fetch his hawkstrider. Halduron, however, looked at Lor'themar with curiosity. "My Lord," he said, "why are we bothering? Surely this is an ideal way of riding ourselves of an uninvited guest?"

"If the young lady in question had freed herself of her confinement, then I'd be inclined to let her go," the Regent Lord replied. "But I will not tolerate Proudmoore continuing to jeopardise our people's safety, or challenging the sovereinty of Quel"thalas. If I allow these raiders to succeed in rescuing Miss Hawke, then Jaina will have won. I will not abide that." He glared at Halduron as if to say 'get going'. With a quick bow, the Ranger General did just that, hurrying after the Grand Magister.

* * *

"C'mon, sweetie," Braelyn crooned to the young Lynx in front of her, hands outstretched, "it's okay. I won't hurt you." She maintained eye contact with the beast as it flopped to its stomach and began snarling at her, fangs glinting in the light. "Yes, yes, you're a big scary cat who's going to rip my face off, I know."

The lynx looked at Braelyn with a confused expression as if trying to figure out why she wasn't running away. "Why don't you come to me, and I'll get you some yummy treats," she said, and smiled when the animal seemed to understand her. It stopped snarling at her, and began belly crawling over to her. "That's it," she encouraged. "Mummy'll get you some tasty rabbit."

A few seconds more and Braelyn was laughing as she tickled the lynx's belly, ruffling the soft brown fur. Severen laughed as he heard the pet's loud purrs. He bent down to pat its head, only to leap back with a yell as it sunk its teeth into his fingers. "Ouch!"

"Now, don't do that!" Braelyn chided gently. "Severen is a friend." The lynx let out a growl. She sighed. "Well, at least I know what to call you," she said. "Bitey."

"We best get back to the tower," Severen said, eyeing the lynx warily. "The hour is almost up."

"Come, Bitey, let's go," Braelyn said, and headed back to the tower, her new pet trotting tamely at her heels.

They had just reached the hideout when they heard hoofbeats. Braelyn and Severen both tensed, readying their weapons, but relaxed again when a large ram came into view. "Oi, am I glad ta see ya!" Declan Hammerhand exclaimed, dismounting and running over to shake Severen's hand enthusiastically. "I thought I'd never outrun those bloody elves."

"Good to see you, too, old friend," Severen replied, laughing as Declan went over to Braelyn, embracing her, and lifting her clear off her feet. The woman let out a surprised laugh, hugging the dwarf in return. "What of the others?"

"Bad news, I'm afraid," Declan replied. "No deaths that I'm aware of, but tha others were forced to take a more roundabout route out of tha city. Most of them won't be able to reach us here. They'll have ta make a run for the Plaguelands on their own."

"Caspian? Arabella?" Severen asked, referring to the mages in the party.

"I'm here," cried a weak voice, and Braelyn spun around to see a middle aged human woman limping into view. Her robe was in tatters, and she sported several nasty looking wounds on her leg, arm, and torso.

"Bella!" Severen cried, running over to the mage, and picking her up. "Braelyn, grab my bags."

Braelyn hurried to do as she was told, kneeling down by Severen as he placed his friend on the ground. The woman mumbled her thanks, turning her eyes to the female hunter as Severen began pulling out potions and bandages. "You're Braelyn?" She let out a soft cheer when Braelyn nodded, which was cut sort as a potion was poured down her throat. "So glad that we were successful."

"What happened to you?" Braelyn inquired, watching as some of the wounds began to close up and heal.

"Ran into a Horde adventurer. Bastard troll shot my mount out from under me, and the poor beast crushed my leg. I managed to deal with him, but then got ganked by some ghouls. Thought I was done for." She winced as she drank another potion.

"Severen," she said, "even with all the potions I'm not going to be able to summon a portal today, my mana is depleted, and I lost my potions with my mount. You and Declan should get Braelyn and head off. If I can, I'll catch up with you."

"We can't leave you!" Braelyn protested. She looked at Declan and Severen. "Guys, I'm not leaving someone to die."

"Aye, lassie, I agree with ye," the paladin replied. "Sev, we can wait the night, surely? Lady Proudmoore and the lass' parents will survive an extra few hours wait."

Severen looked as if he was going to protest, but Braelyn gave him a stern look. "You may go, Severen, but I'm staying." The Night Elf sighed in defeat.

"All right," he said, "I won't argue with you, but we'll need to set a few things up. Declan, see if you can scout out a good lookout, we'll need to keep watch during the night. Brae, I need you to fetch some wood. It tends to get really cold at night this close to the scar."

"On it," she said, and headed back to the small wooded area she and Severen had found Bitey. The little lynx followed her, sniffing the air warily.

There was very little wood on the ground, but Braelyn was able to snap off the smaller limbs of some low hanging branches. Even though these trees looked healthy, they were quite weak from disease. She had gathered a good armful when she heard the soft crunch of twigs breaking beneath boots. Bitey let out a low growl.

Taking a deep breath to steady herself, Braelyn turned around. The wood tumbled from her arms. "You!" she cried, pointing a finger at a very familiar looking Stormwind city guard.

"Me," beamed Randall Garret. "A pleasure to see you again, Miss Hawke."

Braelyn could only gape in him in shock. "What the hell are you doing here? Were you part of the raid?"

"Oh, no," Randall replied, "I wouldn't have helped you escape Silvermoon after going to all the trouble to get you there." He frowned, and Braelyn got the impression that the man was disappointed in her. "Really, I was sure you'd have figured things out by now."

"Figured what out?" Braelyn demanded in frustration. _Who the hell is this guy?!_

"Why you need to be in Silvermoon," the guard replied, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

"I. Don't. Need. To be in. Silvermoon," Braelyn bit out. "Really, who the bloody hell do you think you are to be telling me where I need to be?"

"Someone who knows more about these things than you do," Randall replied, with an infuriatingly cheerful smile.

"Well, Mr I-Know-Everything," Braelyn said, "if I'm meant to be in Silvermoon, then why was I able to escape?" To her annoyance, the guard just laughed.

"Because it was necessary, in order for certain people to come to some realisations of their own," he chortled.

"Were you born this annoyingly cryptic, or did you need special training?"

"A bit of both!"

"Hmph," Braelyn snorted. "Well, I hate to disappoint you, but I am free now, and I have no intention of going back."

"Oh, you'll be going back, and sooner than you think," Randall said, whistling cheerfully, as Bitey attempted to ravage his ankles.

Braelyn grabbed her bow, and strung an arrow, aiming at Randall's bare head. "I am not going back with you."

"I'm not taking you back," Randall laughed. "The Silvermoon guard wouldn't be too pleased to see me, I don't think. Just don't say I didn't warn you." He gave her a sudden stern look. "This could all have been avoided."

Braelyn gasped. "Are you threatening my friends? Are they in danger?" she demanded angrily. The man waved his hand.

"No, no," he said airily. "Your friends will be fine, I assure you. It's you that you need to be concerned about."

"I am being concerned about myself! That's why I'm going home!" Braelyn exclaimed, marching forward to put a finger in Randall's chest. "Listen, I have no idea who or _what_ you are, but I am done with you! Leave me alone!"

Randall smiled at her. "It was nice seeing you, Braelyn. Remember what I said," he told her, patting her on the head, before disappearing. Not teleporting like a mage, but honest to goodness fading into nothingness.

"I am going crazy," Braelyn murmured to herself, patting Bitey on the head as the lynx growled in uncertainty.

"Braelyn!" Declan yelled. "Braelyn, where are ye lass? Hurry up with tha wood, would ya?"

"Coming, Declan!" she called, bending down to retrieve her wood. "I just got a little distracted, sorry!" As she headed back down to the tower, she wondered just how much craziness a person could deal with before going completely mad.

* * *

The Dwarf was easy to mind control. He was on his own, having volunteered to take the first watch duty for the night. He was also far from sober, meaning his mental defences were not as efficient as they could have been. A few helpful suggestions from the friendly Stormwind guard, and the paladin was off to Ironforge, whistling cheerfully as he mounted the ram that Randall had thoughtfully brought with him.

The Night Elf was not so easily influenced. He was old, almost as old as Tyrande Whisperwind, and possessed a strong mind. It was harder for Randall to convince him to travel to Pandaria while keeping things quiet so as not to wake the others. It was the kind of challenge that he very rarely encountered during his work for the Light.

Nevertheless, the Night Elf eventually gave way, riding away in the silent dark.

The mage, if she had been in full health, may have been as difficult to deal with as the elf; but as she was both injured _and_ asleep, it wasn't much of an effort to convince her that waking up and porting to Shattrath was a good idea, even if doing so would leave her in a state of mana-depletion for a week.

Randall's mind control was not the same as those used by most priests. Their mind control spells could fail, or be resisted, or be broken by certain enchantments. They also weren't very long-lasting. His were stronger, longer, and impossible to resist, meaning that Braelyn's would be heroes could not get halfway through their orders then come to their senses and return.

No, what was done, was done.

Randall stood guard over the sleeping woman until just before dawn, when the sun's rays would rouse her from dreams of her Grand Magister.

"Don't say I didn't warn you," he murmured, as his body faded away with the darkness.

* * *

Braelyn woke up with a smile on her face. She'd had the nicest dream of reading in the library with Rommath, though she blushed when she remembered that she'd been sitting in his lap... and they weren't always reading.

It was a while before she realised that Severen had not woken her for her turn at guard duty. Fearing that something had happened during the night, she sat up abruptly, then leapt to her feet when she saw that she was alone. Even Arabella was missing, and the mage was still weak form her injuries.

"Severen? Arabella? Declan?" she called. Bitey ran up to her and swatted at her arms for attention. She patted his head, before creeping out of the hideout. Her stomach knotted in fear when she saw that both Sev's horse and Declan's ram were gone.

Braelyn looked around. The area was deserted, and all of her friends gear was gone. The only things left were the bag Severen had given to her, a quiver of arrows, and her bow. The bag contained little of any use; a few potions, bandages, and some rations.

For whatever reason, her friends, the people hired by Lady Proudmoore and her parents to rescue her, had abandoned her. In the middle of the night. Without an explanation.

Braelyn felt panic begin to bubble up within her. She had never been in such a place on her own before. She always had at least her cousin beside her. She tried to quell the fear, deciding to check the lookout before losing all hope. _Perhaps one of them stayed_, she thought.

The look out was on a small hill behind the collapsed tower. It gave a good view of their hideout and the surrounding area, though it was a bit of a climb to get to. When she got to the top, Braelyn noted with anger that the fire had long gone cold. It had probably not lasted longer than first watch.

She stood there, wondering how such trustworthy seeming people could just abandon her in the middle of enemy territory, when she suddenly recalled the Stormwind guard's words to her yesterday.

_"Just don't say I didn't warn you."_

"That bastard!" Braelyn said, so viciously that Bitey let out a whimper. "He did this! I don't know how, but I _know _it was him." She kicked a rock, watching it sail off the edge of the hill. As she watched its progress through the air, she noticed colour and movement in the distance.

Hands trembling, Braelyn raised the scope of her bow to her eye. It was a cheap scope, but it enabled her to see what she needed to. Two of those ridiculous, brightly coloured birds that the Blood Elves used for mounts were in the Dead Scar, a Goblin tricycle alongside them.

Braelyn was a little hurt to see that Boxer was hunting her down after going to so much trouble to organise an escape, but she wasn't surprised to see Halduron. She was surprised, and a little alarmed, to see that Rommath was with them.

_I thought he'd be glad to see the back of me once I'd actually left, _she thought. _Its one thing to try and stop me from going, another to chase after me. Lor'themar's orders, I suppose._

The sunlight glinted off the scope's lens, and suddenly Braelyn was looking directly into Rommath's beautiful green eyes. They seemed to flash ominously, and she gasped when she saw the trio begin to ride towards her. They were still a fair way away, but with their mounts, they'd make up the distance easily.

Commanding Bitey to follow her, Braelyn put her bow away and grabbed her bag. She headed back down the hill, but turned away from the tower and into the trees. She saw a river ahead of her, with an unmanned bridge spanning it. She ran towards it, not realising she was heading directly into the heart of the Ghostlands, and the heavily guarded town of Tranquilien.

...

AN - a bit of a filler chapter. I had to play with the environment of Quel'Thalas a bit, hope you don't mind.

And yes, I do think that hawkstriders are the most ridiculous looking mounts. They don't look comfy at all. I'll stick to my drakes. And my jewelled sapphire panther, that makes me think of Voltron when I fly around Azeroth on it.

Next Chapter: Braelyn actually gets to be a hunter again. And Rommath is forced to face up to an inconvenient truth.


	11. Cat and mouse

Rommath sat rigid on his steed, scanning the Dead Scar for any sign of he Alliance raiders or his wayward human. He was trying to convince himself that the unrelenting anger he felt since the raid was the result of injured Sin'dorei pride, of being bested by a Night Elf.

He was failing.

The Grand Magister was beginning to realise that it had nothing to do with the raid, per se, and everything to do with Braelyn being taken away from him.

What made him angrier, though, was that he should have known the raid would happen. When she'd woken up from her nightmare screaming for a male Night Elf, didn't he acknowledge that her lover would probably come for her? He should have had the city patrols doubled, should have placed more protective wards around the city, especially at the places Braelyn spent the most time.

He should have, but he didn't. Now, it was too late.

A half-hour previously they had stumbled upon the body of a troll, lying near the carcass of a horse. Halduron had managed to pick up a blood trail, and they'd been tracking it ever since. All of them hoped it wasn't Braelyn's blood.

Out of the corner of his eye, Rommath saw a bright flash, like the reflection of light on glass. He looked at where it had been, and smiled behind his mask when there was a second flash. He knew, without knowing why, that it was Braelyn. _A hunter's scope,_ he thought smugly.

"She's up there," Rommath said, pointing to the hills. Halduron and Boxer followed his gaze, just in time to see the lens flash again.

"If it is them," Halduron replied, "then they'd be on the move now. We're easy to spot from there."

"Then we best hurry, then," Rommath said, urging his mount forward.

* * *

Not for the first time, Braelyn cursed how unfit she'd become since arriving in Quel'Thalas. She use to be able to run for miles at a steady pace, but now, she'd hardly made any progress at all and she felt like her lungs were on fire.

"I'm all right, Bitey," she reassured her pet, as she lent on one of the dead trees that littered the Ghostlands. She wanted to stop and rest, and both she and her lynx needed food and water, but she didn't have the time. There were no hiding places near by, and she couldn't risk staying out in the open with Rommath so close.

"Come," she commanded Bitey, and set off again. She compromised by moving at a slower pace, which turned out to be a good thing when she heard the sound of battle up ahead. She slunk into the shadows of some trees, silently thanking Bitsie for teaching her the trick. She hoped it was enough to keep her hidden. It was not true stealth; when she'd gone to a trainer to learn that skill, she was told she wasn't advanced enough to be taught.

Braelyn held her breath as she watched a group of Blood Elf soldiers dispatching a group of ghouls. _So many,_ she thought anxiously, referring to both ghouls and Sin'dorei. When the last of the ghouls fell, the soldiers marched off, and Braelyn groaned as she realised there must be some sort of settlement or garrison nearby.

"Great, just frickin' fantastic," she muttered, slowly moving forward. "Bitey, stay close to me."

It was an awful feeling, walking through Ghostlands. Everything was tainted with death, and it was hard finding any cover to try and mask her movements. Every time she moved into the open, she felt like she was naked, with a bullseye painted on her back. She began to feel as grey as the environment.

She made it to a large boulder situated dangerously close to a road leading into a small village. The area wasn't deserted, though, and Braelyn nearly had a heart attack when a Forsaken apothecary actually came and leaned against the boulder she was hiding behind. She clutched Bitey to her, afraid the lynx would alert him to their presence.

Braelyn waited and waited, her anxiety mounting by the second. She gave a silent cheer of relief when she heard the Forsaken walk away. The relief was short lived as her ears made out the sound of a motorised mount approaching.

_Oh, Light, not them, not them, please not them!_

She risked turning so she could kneel and peek around the boulder. She buried her face into the stone when her fears were confirmed; Rommath, Boxer, and Halduron were riding up the road leading to the town.

Braelyn watched as they stopped to talk to the Forsaken. She assumed they were asking about her or the raiders. She resigned herself to another agonising wait, and an even more difficult escape, when a surprising idea popped into her head.

_Run._

Braelyn frowned. Running was the most stupid thing she could do in this situation, but she could not stop thinking about it. If it she weren't on her own, she would've sworn that someone was attempting to mind control her.

_Run. Run. RUN!_

Without any further conscious thought, Braelyn took off, running as fast as she could. She was headed towards a group of trees growing at the top of a sharp downward slope, which was dangerous as anything could be waiting for her at the bottom. She had almost made it to the desperately needed shadow when she heard shouting.

Braelyn turned. Rommath, Halduron, and Boxer were staring at her. Boxer was laughing, slapping his knee in his mirth. Halduron just seemed surprised, while Rommath looked... relieved. The emotion was so unexpected that Braelyn actually paused, staring at the mage in shock.

When she saw Rommath start to move, Braelyn came to her senses and began running again. She headed downhill, and her foot slipped when the ground crumbled beneath her. She pitched forward, tucking herself into a loose ball to roll the rest of the way without injuring herself, though she knew she'd have bruises from where her bow and quiver dug into her back.

She rolled smoothly up into a crouch when she reached the bottom of the slope, and came face to face with a group of Scourge. Automatically reaching for her weapon, she couldn't help but let out a blood curdling scream as the ghouls began to swarm around her.

* * *

When Rommath saw Braelyn running through the outskirts of Tranquilien, he was both relieved and worried. She was alone, her Kal'dorei lover nowhere in sight, and she seemed to be running blind, in area infested with the Scourge, and Blood Elf forces, not all of whom would know of the human's importance.

He and his companions shouted out, and to Rommath's surprise, the woman stopped, looking over at them. She seemed shocked to the see them, but why would she be? She knew they were pursuing her.

Braelyn did not pause for long, charging downhill and further into danger when she saw Rommath heading in her direction. "Stubborn wench!" he swore, then tensed when he heard her scream in terror.

Spurring their mounts forwards, the small group raced to see what had happened to cause Braelyn to cry out like that. When they reached the slope, the hawkstridders began to screech and buck. Boxer slammed on his brakes as Rommath and Halduron dismounted quickly to avoid being thrown. Free from their riders, the vibrant birds ran, clearly in a panic.

"Hell's bells!" Boxer exclaimed. It was obvious what had spooked the birds; the Scourge were everywhere... and Braelyn was right in the middle of them.

The human hunter had managed to disengage herself, leaping backwards in order to give herself some much-needed space. Rommath watched in amazement as Braelyn managed to kill three ghouls with a single arrow, while a lynx mauled a forth that had attempted to flank its master. Human and animal moved with a grace he didn't realise humans possessed, seeming to communicate with their bodies and not words. He noticed the tip of her arrow glow blue with arcane energy as it flew through the air and lodged in the eye of another attacker. Ducking and weaving, her pale brown hair streaming out behind her, she seemed almost impervious to the attacks sent her way.

_Beautiful, _Rommath thought. _There's no other word to describe her._

"She's good," Halduron said with appreciation. "Very good. A Beast Master going by how well her new pet is doing."

"We need to get her out of there," Rommath growled, beginning to focus his mana, never taking his eyes off Braelyn. His growl turned into a feral snarl as Brealyn reached for an arrow, only to come up empty handed. She tried to disengage again, only to find she'd been surrounded. Her lynx circled around her, snapping at anything that got too close, but eventually their luck ran out and Braelyn was struck, falling to her knees.

Rommath hadn't felt so angry, or afraid, in over a hundred years.

* * *

It was over.

Braelyn knew it the moment she reached for ammunition that wasn't there, hand grabbing uselessly at the air. Bitey, her beautiful, brave lynx tried his best to shield her from the inevitable. She ordered him away, but he wouldn't leave her. _At least I won't be alive to see another pet die, _she thought.

When the blow came, it didn't hurt as much as she'd expected it to. It knocked her to her knees, and she felt dazed, stunned, unable to focus on anything beyond her own imminent demise.

_Bitsie's gonna be pissed when we meet up in the afterlife, _she thought idly, _what with me dying to the Scourge __**after **__the Lich King was defeated._

Braelyn lifted her head she when she realised the ghouls were up close and personal. Jutting her chin out, she spat on the nearest ghoul and said, "Hurry up and get on with it, arseholes."

But death once again eluded the hunter. She grunted in surprise as the ghouls in front of her disintegrated in a ball of fire. She heard arrows flying through the air and thud into the undead behind her. She had the presence of mind to roll out of the way of the corpses, and then staggered to her feet.

"Come to me, Braelyn!" she heard Rommath call, but she stayed where she was. A few minutes ago, she was running away from this man. Running _towards_ him now just seemed so... fickle, even if a rebellious part of her heart was now telling her to be the most fickle woman in Azeroth, if it meant being with him again.

She looked over to Rommath, seeing him fire bolt a few of the remaining ghouls, while Boxer picked off a few with some throwing knives. He frowned. "For once in your life, woman, stop being such a stubborn fool!" he yelled.

That got her moving. "Such a charming man," she snarked tiredly. "I bet that's why all the ladies love you." Halduron laughed.

"Oh, yeah, he has to beat them off with his staff," the Ranger General said. Rommath sent his friend a filthy look. Halduron gave his best innocent look and smiled.

"Ya know, toots, you're a lady," Boxer said, a grin on his face. Braelyn blushed.

"I'll kill you," she threatened the Goblin half-heartedly. She could feel Rommath staring at her, "don't think that I won't." She frowned as the ground rumbled beneath her feet. "Why is the earth moving?"

"Abomination!" Halduron yelled, reaching for his bow. Rommath darted forward and grabbed Braelyn, shoving her behind him. She stepped away, turning to Halduron.

"Halduron, I need ammo!" she said. She was surprised when the elf handed her his spare quiver.

"What are you doing?" Rommath hissed. "She needs to get out of here."

"I can fight!" Braelyn protested. "You know I can."

"Fine," the mage snapped, "but it you try and run away from me again, you will spend the rest of your life encased in ice." Braelyn stuck her tongue out at him, but nodded her agreement.

It turned out there were two abominations, and Braelyn had never seen anything so ugly. And the _smell_... it was enough to make her want to throw up. If not for the fact she hadn't eaten that day, she might very well have done just that.

They were slow, lumbering monstrosities, and a few of Rommath's frostfire bolts had them almost stationary. Boxer, who had some skill as a warrior, set about hacking at their legs, while Braelyn and Halduron peppered them with arrows. Rommath was bombarding them with a flamestrike, and looked like he was enjoying every second of it.

Braelyn was amazed at how much damage they were able to take, having never fought an abomination before. Her arrows struck their faces and chest, but it was as if she were firing at a training dummy. The arrow pierced the skin by several inches, yet didn't seem to bother the scourge minions at all. They just looked at their wounds, and carried on.

Eventually, one of the abominations fell, and Boxer gave a little cheer as it fell. The other was still on its feet, but failing fast. Rommath was having to keep it trapped using a nova blast to stop it rampaging about in fury. One last flurry of arrows from Braelyn and Halduron, the last they had, saw it roar in agony and fall to the ground.

As it did so, it flung out its meaty arm, sending a hook at the end of a long and heavy chain flying towards the hunters. Halduron was able to throw himself out of the way, reaching for Braelyn as he did so, but he missed. He watched as she tried to duck to one side, only to be struck by the full force of the chain.

Braelyn didn't scream. There was only time for a brief flash of overwhelming pain as she was thrown violently through the air and onto some rocks. _Not again,_ she thought, before the darkness claimed her.

* * *

**AN** - Muahahahahahaha. I am the mistress of evil cliffhangers. Seriously though, it's the most logical stopping point. If you're playing the drinking game, you should probably be drunk by now. Bohmzawe, is that what those lychee mojitos were about? ;)

Next chapter: Braelyn is getting real tired of your shit, life. Denaria's jealousy threatens to derail the fragile peace between Braelyn and Rommath, but may come back to bite the pesky warlock in the arse.


	12. Epiphany

There was a moment of stunned silence before Rommath yelled out in rage, "Braelyn!" He ran over to her prone form, kneeling beside her. "Light..."

Braelyn's injuries were severe; unconscious, blood poured from a wound on the back of her head, and from where the rocks had pierced her armour. One of her arms was at an unnatural angle, clearly broken, and these were just the visible injuries. Who knew what damage had been done internally.

He reached out and brushed a strand of hair away from her face, noting with concern how pale her skin was, the freckles standing out vividly against her cheeks. Her breath was shallow, and laboured, and for the first time in a long time, Rommath didn't know what to do.

"Ah, B, Sweet Pea, no," Boxer groaned. "We need to get her to Tranquilien, they have healers."

"We can't move her!" Rommath hissed, glaring at the goblin. "It'd kill her." He paused, thinking quickly. "Halduron, run to the village for the healers. Boxer, bring me my bag."

Rommath was so focused on Braelyn, that he didn't notice that Halduron had already left for the village. When Boxer handed him his bag, he pulled out a couple of healing potions. They were nowhere near strong enough, but were better than nothing. He gently pried her lips open and poured the potions down her throat, stroking her neck lightly to encourage her to swallow. Taking advantage of her unconscious state, he moved her arm back into its natural position, before grabbing some bandages and pressing them to her wounds to stop the bleeding.

The potions helped a little, and her breathing eased, becoming deeper, and less rapid. Rommath took her uninjured hand in his, stroking his thumb over the worn leather, unaware that his every action was being observed.

Boxer was shocked by how bad Braelyn's injuries were, and sent a silent prayer for Halduron to hurry up. He was more shocked, however, by Rommath's behaviour. The blood elf mage was acting as if his own survival depended on the human woman's, holding onto her hand, and muttering that she had to get better, that she was 'too stubborn to die'.

_Oh, Sweet Pea, _the goblin thought, _if only ya could see this, then you'd see how ya feelings aren't completely one-sided... and if only Rommath wasn't too proud ta recognise his feelings for what they are._

Rommath tensed when Braelyn gave a groggy moan and opened her eyes. She seemed dazed, staring at the Grand Magister without recognition. She blinked a few times before her eyes narrowed in pain and anger.

"Get away from me!" she spat at Rommath, before dissolving into a coughing fit. "Why... why couldn't you just let me go?"

"Braelyn..." Rommath began, startled by her venomous tone, but the human passed out again before he could finish his sentence.

Behind him, he could hear Halduron return, dragging some very curious paladins with him.

* * *

When Braelyn regained consciousness for the second time, she was back in Silvermoon. The healers of Tranquilien had fixed her as best they could, stabilising her condition enough for Rommath to carry her through a portal. She was then taken to her room at his house, where she was placed in the care of Lorelai.

For two days, she lingered in a coma, Rommath leaving her side only when forced to by his duty to Lor'themar Theron. When she woke up, the first thing she saw was him, leaning against a wall and staring at her as if fearing she would vanish should he look away for even a second.

When he saw those beautiful blue eyes open, Rommath called for Lorelai, who immediately hurtled into the room. The priest scanned the human, then asked if she was all right. Braelyn, who had yet to do anything but gaze at Rommath, nodded her head stiffly.

"Is there anything I can do for you?" Lorelai asked, expecting her friend to ask for a painkilling potion, or perhaps a bath. Braelyn, however, was determined to prove just how petulant and unreasonable a person could be when gravely injured.

She turned her gaze to the priest, then said as firmly as she could, "Get him out of here."

"What?" Lorelai and Rommath said in unison.

"I don't want him near me," Braelyn said. "Get him away from me, or send me home."

Rommath moved forward as if to touch her, but Braelyn pushed herself backwards, screaming in agony as her ribs, most of which had been broken, throbbed in pain. "Braelyn, I need to... ." The mage would have continued in his movements, but Lorelai grabbed him.

"Rommath! Just go," she ordered. "We can sort this out later." Rommath wanted to protest, but a stern look from the priest saw him capitulate, walking out the door with shoulders slumped in defeat.

"Braelyn," Lorelai admonished her, "he saved your life."

"I didn't need saving! I needed to be let go," the human replied. "Why couldn't he just let me go?"

"You would have died out there."

"Then I would have died free," Braelyn said, before changing the topic abruptly. "Where's my pet, Bitey?"

"He's outside," Lorelai replied.

"Can I see him, please?" she asked, frowning when the priest hesitated. "What?"

"Ah, Rommath wants him kept outside because the animal kept trying to bite him."

Braelyn smiled. "He's such a good boy. I named him well." She gave Lorelai her best puppy-dog eyes. "Please, Lorelai, I'd feel much better if he was with me. I promise I'll tell him not to bite the Grand Magister."

Lorelai caved. "Oh, all right," she sighed then stuck her head out the door to call for Auriel, who she instructed to fetch Braelyn's pet.

A few minutes later, Braelyn heard a happy roar, and her lynx bounded into her room, coming to stop by her bedside. Bitey looked at his mistress, cocking his head to one side and emitting a loud whine. He looked very pathetic.

"It's okay, Bitey," she said. "I'm okay." She grimaced as Bitey jammed his nose into her side. The lynx sniffed loudly, then flopped to the floor with a growl, paws over his nose.

"Hey!" Braelyn protested. "I don't stink! Do I?" she added, looking at Lorelai.

"Well, I wouldn't have said anything," the priest admitted, "but now that you mention it..." She laughed when she saw Braelyn's nonplussed look. "Would you like a bath?"

"I'd love one, thanks," the hunter replied.

"All right, but I swear by the Light, this better be the last time I have to bathe you."

"Oh, c'mon, it's just like old times," Braelyn smiled.

* * *

For three days, Braelyn refused to see Rommath, allowing only Lorelai, Boxer, Halduron, and Auriel into her room. Part of her knew she was being childish, but she was mad at him for saving her, and mad at herself for being glad that he had. She didn't know how to talk to him about the raid, or about her feelings, so she avoided him.

All of her friends tried to reason with her, but Braelyn refused to listen. She was headstrong, and not even Halduron calling her a stubborn mule could change her mind.

On the fourth day, Braelyn was attempting to feed herself lunch, when the sound of female voices arguing carried upstairs. She was concerned when she recognised one of the voices as Lorelai's. The women got closer and closer, louder and louder, and then the door was flung wide open.

"You selfish bitch!" Denaria Daybreak shrieked.

"Get the hell out of my room!" Braelyn retorted, as Bitey growled at the warlock. With a flick of her hand, Denaria feared both the lynx and Lorelai, causing them to run out of the room in mindless terror. She closed and locked the door before stalking to the bed to loom over Braelyn. Despite her anger, the hunter had to fight not to cower.

"Do you have any idea what you're doing to Rommath?" Denaria asked.

"Ignoring him," Braelyn said. The warlock hissed.

"Such a smart mouth will get you into trouble one day," Denaria warned. Braelyn sneered at her, even though she was curious as to what the other woman was on about. "I'll tell you what you're doing, human, you're killing him." Her green eyes flashed furiously.

"Stop being so melodramatic," Braelyn said, refusing to believe she could be affecting Rommath in such a way.

"Oh, I wish I were overreacting, but no. Rommath is not eating, he's not sleeping. He looks worse than you do He continually harasses that priestess about your state of health, hanging on her every word."

Braelyn's jaw dropped. There was no way...

"He even got banished form Sunfury Spire today because he set Halduron's hair on fire."

"What? But why..."

"I don't know what you did to cause this, human, but you will fix it. He is a great man, and he deserves better than being tormented by some pathetic human wench."

With that final insult, Denaria stormed out of the room. Braelyn could her slamming the door as she exited the house. The human raised a hand to her face, tears forming in her eyes. Had she really caused Rommath that much grief? She thought he didn't care about her, so why would he act like that?

Braelyn reached out and picked up the little golden bell that sat on her bedside table. It let out a melodious tinkle, and a few seconds later a scowling Lorelai walked in.

"I swear, that woman makes me wish I'd specialised as a shadow priest," she said. "Are you all right, Braelyn?"

"Is it true?" Braelyn asked. "Is Rommath really ill?"

Lorelai looked at her friend with sympathy. "He's not ill, Braelyn, but he is not well either. Your escape and injury weigh heavily on him."

"Do you know where he is?"

"No, but I can find him if you wish."

"Please," Braelyn said. "I need to speak with him."

"Very well," Lorelai said. "I'm glad you're seeing reason now. You two have much to sort out."

Braelyn could only nod in silent agreement.

* * *

While she was waiting, Braelyn did some serious thinking. While she didn't think her initial anger and disappointment unreasonable, her method of dealing with it was. She was ashamed at her behaviour, and the effect it had on the people that cared about her.

She also came to realise that she could no longer deny her feelings for Rommath. The blood elf held her captive in more ways than one, and to continue to ignore that fact would end up doing her harm in the long-term. She was dangerously close to falling in love with the proud, angry man whose devotion to his people was unshakable.

If fate was kind, and Light knows she'd earned some seriously good karma points lately, he may even come to care about her.

It was late when Rommath finally came home, and Braelyn had started to doze off. She jerked awake when she felt his hand gently touching her face.

"Braelyn," he said softly, "you wanted to see me?"

All Braelyn could do was stare. Rommath looked _awful_. He had black, puffy circles beneath both eyes, and he looked pale and wan. His hair hung limply around his shoulders, and he had obviously not eaten in a few days.

"Oh, Rommath," Braelyn said, reaching up to touch his cheek. "I am so, so sorry."

He watched her for a moment, then sat carefully beside her on the bed. "It is all right," he said. "You're anger was not unreasonable, and I should not have been so surprised by it. You acted just like anyone else would in that position."

"Maybe," Braelyn replied, removing her hand and placing it in her lap. She twisted her fingers together nervously. "But I was wrong to hold you responsible for so long. You are not to blame for me being in Silvermoon. You are not Lethallan."

"But I brought you back here."

"So did Halduron and Boxer, but I never shut them out." Braelyn reached out and tentatively took one of Rommath's hands in hers. He laced his finger through hers.

"It was probably a good thing that you kept me away," he said. Braelyn looked at him in surprise.

"Why?"

"I was very angry about certain things, still am," he confessed. "You didn't need to deal with that while you were so weak." His hand tightened a little around hers, the only sign he was still struggling with the anger.

"Angry at me?" Braelyn asked, softly squeezing his hand.

"No," he said, and his eyes blazed. "I was only ever angry at you when you so recklessly ran away from me in Tranquilien."

"Then what has you in such a state?"

"Where was he?" Rommath demanded suddenly, voice harsh. Braelyn flinched at his tone. "Your lover, this Andorien? The kal'dorei that stole you away from Silvermoon. Why was he not there to aid you in the Ghostlands."

Braelyn was confused. Andorien? Her lover?

"Ah, Rommath... " she said slowly, "I think you misunderstood a few things."

"Really?" the blood elf replied, and Braelyn swore his eyes lit up with something akin to hope.

"Firstly, that wasn't Andorien. His name is Severen, and I had never seen him before that day. I don't know what happened to him, he simply abandoned me in the middle of the night, as did a Dwarf paladin and a human mage. If I ever do see him them again, said night elf is going to find himself beaten to death with the dwarf."

"How curious," Rommath murmured, shifting closer to Braelyn. "It is most unlike a paladin to abandon someone in need of help. Continue."

"Secondly," Braelyn said, trying to hold back a blush as Rommath slowly invaded her personal space, "Andorien is not, and never has been, my lover. I may have been infatuated with him at one point, but his heart lies elsewhere... with my cousin, Odariah."

"That must have hurt," Rommath said, hand cupping her cheek.

"A little, but I got over it."

"Any lovers, Kal'dorei or otherwise, that I _should_ know about?" A thumb brushed across her cheek.

"That's... none of your concern!" Braelyn squeaked indignantly.

"I disagree," Rommath smirked. "It's a matter of security. I need to know if there's a chance some outraged hero of the Alliance will attempt to kick the city gates in again looking for you."

"H... highly unlikely," Braelyn said, "but you never know; I may have picked up a secret admirer or two in my travels."

Her breath caught in her throat as Rommath's finger trailed down her cheek, not unlike the night of her bad dream. "You blush when I touch you, get flustered when I get close," he said.

"No I don't," Braelyn said, even as she felt her face heat up. Rommath chuckled as he leaned against her, resting his forehead on hers. His green eyes pierced her blue ones as his other arm slid around her waist. Braelyn's hands fluttered to his chest, digging into his robes.

"You are a terrible liar," he said. His gaze grew serious. "You will be the death of me, woman."

"A tad dramatic, don't you think? _You_ weren't the one smashed by an abomination."

"Don't," Rommath growled, pressing into her, mindful of her still-healing body. His eyes flickered with doubt, before closing. "This will only end in tears."

"I don't care," Braelyn replied, taking a risk and placing her lips on Rommath's.

The kiss was soft and warm. Braelyn revelled in it for the short time it lasted. Rommath pulled away, planting another soft kiss on her cheek as he did so. "You need to sleep," he said.

"Will you stay until I fall asleep?" she asked, stroking his jaw.

"Yes," Rommath replied, and settled himself in the chair beside her bed. Braelyn lay down, carefully rolling onto her side. The discomfort was worth being able to face him.

"Rommath?"

"Go to sleep, Braelyn," he said with amused exasperation.

"Will you have breakfast with me tomorrow? I want to make sure you eat before you go to work."

"As you wish," Rommath replied. "Now, sleep."

Braelyn was smiling as she drifted off, and it was many hours before Rommath left her side. When he finally made it to his own bed, his heart was in turmoil. Braelyn had returned to him, and he didn't want to lose her, but he couldn't shake the feeling that they were doomed to failure.

* * *

Back in Astranaar, Braelyn had watched her cousin hand-feed Andorien, wishing that she could do that with someone, someday. At the time, she didn't know that in a few months, she would get her wish.

Rommath had kept his promise, waking her up with a kiss, bearing a heavily laden breakfast tray. She insisted he sit on the bed with her, ignoring his protests when she climbed onto his lap. His eyes shone with amusement as she fed him strawberries, and little bits of egg on toast. She was fussing over him like he was the wounded one.

Braelyn refrained from mushing the berries in his face. She didn't think he'd take it as well as Andorien. Then again, he would never set fire to an injured lady...

"Don't even think about it," Rommath growled in her ear playfully, grabbing the hand inching towards his face with an extra ripe strawberry. He guided it to her mouth, forcing it through her pouting lips. When she swallowed, he bent down and kissed the juice from her lips.

"Rommath," she said, eyes darkening with uncertainty, "do we have a future?" She saw his lips narrow, and almost regretted asking. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have..."

"It's all right," he replied, resting his head on hers, "it's an issue we needed to discuss eventually. It's probably better to deal with it now, rather than it let it fester." He shifted slightly so he could look into her eyes.

"Our situation is far from normal," he began. "There are many people, here and in the Alliance, who will not approve..."

"I don't care!" Braelyn said viciously.

"Nor do I," Rommath said, remaining calm. "But you need to prepare yourself; not everyone will react with as much happiness as Boxer, or Lorelai. I'm not even sure how well Halduron is going to respond. He was happy to tease us when we were so uncertain of each other, but now... "

Braelyn kissed Rommath's cheek. He smiled down at her, a sight that she cherished, because it was something that most people never got to see. "I want you by my side," he whispered, "but I don't want to see you unhappy." Seeing her about to protest, he added, "You will have to give up so much to be with me, Braelyn. Your home, your reputation, potentially your family and friends. Too much."

"We could go somewhere together," Braelyn suggested. "Shattrath, or perhaps Pandaria..."

Rommath groaned. "No, we can't, dear heart. I can't leave my people. They've been through so much, what with Kael'Thas leaving and our troubles with the Sunwell. They need me."

Braelyn wanted to protest, but held back when she saw the tortured look in Rommath's eyes. She caressed his face, and smiled, though her lower lip wobbled slightly. "Then we make the most of the time we have together."

* * *

After three more days of bed rest, Lorelai allowed Braelyn to leave her room. Which was a very good thing as she was going crazy cooped up inside, and driving Rommath mad with her. The first thing she did was head to the Bazaar to meet with Lorelai and Boxer, Bitey at her heels, and her new pet floating by her head.

It was a baby Dragonhawk that Halduron had rescued from a trap in the Eversong Woods. Rommath had asked for it, giving it to her as a gift. Braelyn loved it, not just because it was the perfect gift for her, but she knew how much teasing he would have endured from the Ranger General for asking for it.

She called the Dragonhawk Violet, after the beautiful shade of purple that tinged its wings.

When Rommath had given Violet to her, there had been a small, square package tied to its back. Braelyn opened the box to find a pair of delicately crafted gold earrings, shaped like Quel'Thalasian phoenixes. She had donned them immediately.

She would never remove them.

Neither Boxer nor Lorelai were at the Bazaar when Braelyn got there, so she sat herself down on her favourite bench to wait. Violet perched awkwardly on the backrest next to her head, while Bitey stretched out at her feet, rolling onto his back for some belly rubs.

It didn't take long for Braelyn to realise that she was being watched, the hairs on the back of her neck prickling. She bent down to scratch Bitey's chin, casting her gaze about the area as she did so.

A few metres to her left, a male and female blood elf stood chatting. Hiding between their legs was a little blood elf girl with the most adorable black pigtails. She was staring at Braelyn and her pets intently, not with hostility or fear, but with curiosity. Braelyn waggled her fingers at the girl in a friendly greeting, smiling when the child waved back.

The couple, noticing their daughter's action also turned their attention to the human. Braelyn was expecting them to tell their child off, and glare at her, but instead they smiled politely.

"My pet is very well-trained, if your little one would like to say hello," she called out in Thalassian. After a shocked pause, not realising that the human spoke their language, they male elf said something to his daughter, who grinned, and ran over to Braelyn.

"Hi, I'm Allysandra, and I'm six years old!"

"Pleased to meet you, Allysandra. I'm Braelyn, and this is Bitey, and Violet."

"Can I pet him?" the little girl asked with great excitement.

Braelyn grinned and said, "Sure, but wouldn't you prefer to go for a ride?" She laughed when Allysandra's eyes almost popped right out of her head.

"CAN I?" she squealed.

"Bitey, roll over," she instructed, and the lynx did as he was told, giving Braelyn a 'how could you?' look. Braelyn lifted Allysandra onto his back, and instructed her to hold on firmly to his mane. "Bitey, walk."

As she guided her pet slowly around the Bazaar, Braelyn had a sudden epiphany. She looked around her, at the blood elves taking in the spectacle of a child riding a lynx around the city. Many were displeased, but plenty were looking on with amusement, shooting the human in their midst friendly smiles. She realised that maybe this was what that crazy Stormwind guard was talking about when he said she had to be in Silvermoon, that this was where her future lay.

Maybe it wasn't just about her finding Rommath, although she was certain that helping him to overcome some of his prejudices was a part of it. Perhaps she needed to be here in order to mend broken relationships, build a few bridges.

She wasn't stupid, or crazy, enough to believe that by wondering the city preaching about love and tolerance, she'd make everything fantastic forever. She planned on staying out of the city dungeons. But, it didn't have to be about fixing everything. By changing the mind of even one blood elf, she could achieve something positive. That one blood elf could go on to be a diplomat, or a soldier, who knew that not all humans were like Garithos, or Jaina Proudmoore, and be more willing to concentrate on a peaceful future, and not the violent past.

That was something worth fighting for.

Knowing that Rommath was probably going to call her a naive fool didn't dampen her excitement at all. For the first time in a long time, she felt like she had a purpose.

* * *

Watching from the shadows, a slender figure frowned at how happy the human looked, parading herself and her beasts around the city. Worse still, the citizens of Silvermoon were beginning to accept her presence, as if she belonged here.

She didn't belong here. She belonged back in Stormwind with her own kind. Didn't she miss her own family and friends? Or was she so caught up in her pathetic feelings for Rommath that she forgot about them?

Denaria knew she had to act quickly, before the human got her claws stuck into the Grand Magister any deeper. Luckily, she'd been preparing for this moment since Rommath took after the stupid cow when she'd escaped.

The Warlock reached into her bag and pulled out a small vial. Its contents caught the light of the sun, shinning an awful, unnatural shade of pink. A small label adhered to the side, small cursive letters spelling out the potion's name.

_Lust._

"Time to take your medicine, dear."

* * *

**AN** - that Denaria, what a meddling bitch. But, as we can see, things are beginning to heat up. Good news is, the next chapter is also done.

Next chapter: we find out who that potion is for, and it's Rommath's turn to feel the pangs of jealousy.


	13. So you think you can dance: Azeroth

"Lorelai, am I being selfish?" Braelen asked, turning to hand the priest some healing potions.

"About what"?

"Well, my friends and family are all back in Stormwind, probably going mad with worry, and here I am, the happiest I've been in a long time, and feeling like this is home."

"Do you miss them?" Lorelai inquired.

"Hell yes!" Braelyn exclaimed. "I want to see them, badly, but when I think about it, it's more a case of going to visit and then coming back. The idea of leaving Silvermoon permanently, scares me."

"It may be a little selfish," Lorelai admitted, tactful as always, "but who am I to judge?"

Braelyn saw that Lorelai was holding something back. "Out with it, my friend," she said.

"You're my friend, Braelyn, and I want you to be happy."

"But?"

"You need to be really careful. You can love Rommath all you want, but it won't spare you any pain should the Regent-Lord decide you need to leave."

"I know," Braelyn sighed. "I think that's part of the reason why Rommath is still holding something back, why he won't take our relationship to the next level."

"And what do you want?"

"I want to be with him as much as I can for as long as I can."

Lorelai sighed, placing her hand on Braelyn's shoulder. "I will pray for you both."

"Thanks," Braelyn replied. "We'll need them." She handed the priest the last of the potions, then bid her farewell. She was planning a surprise dinner for Rommath, a traditional lamb roast, and wanted to get home in time to help Auriel with the preparations. The elf chef wasn't too familiar with human cooking.

She stopped by the Wayfarer's Rest Inn to buy some Suntouched Special Reserve and Moonglow, waving at Boxer, who was passing by with the other Horde ambassadors.

They tended to either Death Glare her, or ignore her.

She couldn't help smiling when she arrived at Rommath's residence, remembering how angry and scared she'd been when she'd first come here. Now... it was one of her favourite places, and always would be, regardless of what happened with her and Rommath.

"Good afternoon, Auriel," she said, entering the kitchen.

"Afternoon, Miss," the chef replied. "That piece of lamb you got from the Ambassador's cousin is an excellent cut."

"Glad to hear it," Braelyn replied, before noticing that Auriel seemed to be a bit distracted. "Is anything wrong?"

Auriel paused, as if deciding whether he should answer or not. "That warlock woman's here," he finally said, lips pursed in disapproval.

"Denaria Daybreak?" she said. The chef nodded. Braelyn sighed testily. When she told Rommath about how much she hated the warlock, he'd promised to keep her out of the house as much as he could. Obviously Denaria had wormed her way back in somehow.

"Well, as long as she's gone by dinner time," she said. She and the chef exchanged worried glances when the sound of breaking glass came from Rommath's lab. It was followed by a muffled, feminine squeal, and more breaking glass.

"Perhaps I should go check on the master?" Auriel suggested. Braelyn shook her head.

"No, I'll do it," she said, picking up one of the bottles of wine she'd purchased and a couple of glasses. She'd use bringing Rommath a drink as an excuse to check out what was going on. She didn't want Rommath thinking she was jealous of Denaria. Even though she was.

_Especially _seeing as she was.

When she got closer to the lab, she heard the warlock laugh. She sounded kind of breathless. She heard Rommath say something, followed by more laughter. Her stomach was twisting in anxiety, her instincts telling her that something was very wrong, and that she should just walk away.

She pushed the door open... and stopped breathing.

Denaria had Rommath pushed up against the far wall, her hands wound tightly through his hair as he kissed his way down her neck. They were both partly undressed, pale skin sweaty and glowing softly in the light.

Braelyn must have dropped the wine, as she could feel glass and liquid splatter against her blue dress. She didn't hear it, couldn't hear anything save the frantic beating of her now fractured heart. One hand clasped at her chest, the other reached out, as if warding off the awful image in front of her.

The sound of breaking glass drew two sets of green eyes to Braelyn. Denaria pressed herself against Rommath. "Well, dear, it looks like we have company." Her lips twisted in a malicious smile, and Braelyn wanted to throw herself on the warlock and rip those lips off her face.

Rommath looked at Braelyn like he did the day of her arrival in Silvermoon all those months ago. There was no warmth, no regard, no love. It was like he was an angry stranger again, the one who wanted to kill her.

"It's no one important, my love," he said, nuzzling Denaria's red hair. He sneered at the human. "Be gone. I have no time for you today." He went back to kissing the warlock's slender neck.

Braelyn jerked back as if she'd been king-hit. Without being fully aware of what she was doing, she turned and fled down the hall, past a startled Auriel, and out onto the street. She kept walking until she reached the Wayfarer's Rest Inn. Normally, the innkeeper, Jovia, was reluctant to serve the human, only doing so out of fear of Rommath. One look at Braelyn's face, however, had her seating the woman at her own table, and bringing over a bottle of ultra-rare, and ultra-expensive, Southshore rum.

Braelyn could not understand what she had just witnessed. How could Rommath do that to her? After all the night's spent reading together in the library, sitting happily in his lap as they spoke of the childhoods, and family? After all the time spent in companionable silence, hands entwined?

Hot tears began to fall as she took her first sip of rum. It burned as it went down, bringing her to her senses. She angrily swiped at her face with the sleeve of her dress. She would not cry over him. Not when he'd been playing her for a fool from the very beginning, letting her believe that his attitudes towards her had changed, that he actually _cared _about her.

It was all just a cruel trick. Some kind of punishment for the sins of her people.

She picked up her glass, draining it in one shuddering gulp. She didn't refill it, chosing to drink straight from the bottle.

The first of many questionable decisions of the night.

* * *

Rommath felt like he was on fire, a burning, pulsating need consuming him from within, compelling him to hold the woman in front of him, to fulfill her every desire.

But it felt _wrong, _like he was diseased.

He remembered his day so clearly until he met up with Denaria... breakfast with his girlfriend, him kissing her goodbye before he left for the Spire. His body jerked as pain hammered his brain at the thought of the human woman and he cried out.

"Ah, ah, ah," a female voiced crooned. "No thinking of her." He felt teeth break the skin on his neck, and he growled, his need building.

But then he remembered.

Not three minutes ago, the sound of breaking glass, a woman standing in the doorway, his voice ordering her away.

Braelyn!

With a feral snarl, he threw Denaria away from him. She slid across one of his workbenches, gathering a host of alchemical equipment on her journey, before hitting the floor.

"What did you do to me, Denaria?" he snarled.

"What had to be done," the warlock replied as she got to her feet. She wiped blood from her lip. "She's made you forget who you are. I intend to help you remember." She sneered as Rommath's nova blast froze her in place. "Is she really worth it, Rommath? You know it can't last."

Rommath ignored her as he staggered over to his potion cabinet. He was pretty sure Denaria had fed him a lust potion. He rifled through the cupboard until he found an all-purpose antidote. He swallowed the foul green liquid in one gulp, gagging at the taste. It wouldn't cure him completely, but would allow him to control himself until Denaria's poison was out of his system.

He turned around and glared at the warlock, who stared back, unrepentant. "Get out of my sight, Denaria," he growled, "before I decide to kill you." He took a deep breath. "Pray that I am able to fix this, or I will hunt you down."

"You will regret this," Denaria stated before stalking out.

Rommath followed after her, calling for his chef. "Auriel!" There was no response. He headed upstairs, hoping that Braelyn had retreated to the library or her room, but the house was empty. His stomach clenched in fear as he headed out into the street.

Where was she?

* * *

Braelyn was drunk. Not just a little tipsy, but completely smashed. The world was delightfully blurred, and she felt warm and happy. Well, mostly happy. She was prone to bouts of anger when she thought of Rommath and that warlock trollop. She'd also driven a group of Horde adventures out of the inn when she'd threatened to beat them to a pulp for going on and on about that stupid weapon, Thunderfury, Blessed Blade of the Windseeker.

_Seriously, no one gives a crap_, Braelyn thought.

After the rum, she'd moved onto tequila, always a bad move. She looked around, deciding that she didn't want to be alone anymore. Her eyes landed on a troll sitting in centre of the inn, watching her with amusement. She smiled when she saw a bow leaning against one of the nearby chairs. Another hunter.

Braelyn walked over in what she hoped was a graceful saunter, but was really a drunken stagger. The troll smirked at her. "Who you be, little miss? My name be Tal'lin."

Braelyn frowned. What _was _her name? Oh, yeah. "Braelyn." She held her hand out for him to shake. The troll took it, but instead of shaking it, used it to pull her onto his lap. "That's friendly."

Tal'lin laughed. "I be a friendly troll, mon." He grinned when he noticed the human staring at his tusks in fascination.

"Can I touch your tusks?" she asked boldly. Tal'lin nodded. Braelyn raised her hands, gentle running her hands along his tusks. They were smoother than she expected. "Awesome. Does it hurt if I do this?" She asked, pulling on one suddenly. He grunted.

"Ya, mon, kinda." He was amused when the little human looked stricken. She placed a rather sloppy kiss on his cheek.

"There, no more ouchie. Do trolls like to dance?" she asked, suddenly changing topic.

Tal'lin chuckled. "Do trolls like ta dance? Trolls always be dancing, mon."

"Do you wanna dance with me?" she blurted.

"I'd love ta, but I can't." He gestured to his foot which was heavily bandaged. Braelyn frowned. She _really_ wanted to dance. "Now, they don' mean ya can't dance for me," he suggested.

"Okay!" Braelyn said happily getting to her feet. She wobbled slightly. "Tell me how to dance like a troll lady. Troll ladies are awesome." She didn't know how she knew that, considering she hadn't actually met any troll women, but she did. Tal'lin's smirk widened, becoming almost predatory.

"Can't dance like a troll dressed like that, mon," he said, grinning when he saw a look of confusion cross the drunk woman's face. "Troll women be lovin' ta show off their legs."

Braelyn frowned at her dress. It was made out of wool, and dyed dark blue, Rommath's favourite colour on her. She scowled. Stupid Rommath and his stupid blue dress, ruining her dancing dreams. She bent down, gathered the hem in her hands and attempted to rip the bottom half of the skirt off. It wouldn't cooperate, so, with a huff of frustration, she settled for pulling the offending garment over her head.

"Victory!" she cried, throwing her dress at Jovia, who looked flabbergasted. Braelyn turned to Tal'lin who was giving her a very appreciative eye over. "What now?"

"Every dancer be needing a stage, mon," the troll smirked, gesturing to the table. Braelyn tried to climb up, only succeeding when Tal'lin placed a hand on her shapely behind and pushed.

Innkeeper Jovia sent one of her employees running for the Ranger-General.

Braelyn stood on the tabletop, the cool air caressing her half-naked body. She looked at her new friend and asked, "what do I do?"

"Well, mon, start by listenin' for tha beat..."

* * *

If Halduron had been asked about what would happen during the course of his day, he never would have guessed he'd end it by standing in an inn watching a human woman dance on top of a table. In her underwear. For a troll.

O_f all the things for Braelyn Hawke to be doing_... He shook his head. What the hell was going on? Where was Rommath?

"Oh, by the Light!" Lorelai exclaimed as the human hopped off the table, and onto the troll's lap. She seemed enthralled by his tusks. The troll seemed only too happy to have her in his arms, placing his hands around her hips. "Rommath will kill him!"

"Who am I killing?" A tired voice came from behind them. The Grand Magister stood behind them, looking as if he'd just gone a few rounds with Death... and lost. Halduron quickly moved to block Braelyn from his view, while Lorelai attempted to shepard the mage back outside.

But it was too late.

Green eyes widened in shock. Rommath gasped, before his lips pulled away from his teeth in a snarl. "What is that troll doing with Braelyn?" he said in a deadly whisper. "And why is she dressed like that?"

"We don't know," Lorelai said. Jovia sent word that she came in a few hours ago, looking as though her world had ended. She's pretty drunk." Rommath grimaced when hearing that.

"I would hope so, considering what she's doing." His stepped forward, hands itching to drag Braelyn away from the troll who was shamelessly taking advantage of her. Both Halduron and Lorelai reached out to stop him.

"Why was she so upset, Rommath?" the Ranger General asked, growing concerned when a look of agony crossed his friend's face.

"She saw something that I wish had never happened," Rommath whispered. "Denaria slipped a potion into one of my drinks; a lust potion." He paused when Lorelai gasped. "Braelyn walked in and saw Denaria and I... kissing."

"I always knew that warlock was trouble," Halduron said grimly. Lorelai nodded in agreement, making a small, angry sound.

"I yelled at Braelyn, told her to leave, that she wasn't important," Rommath continued, his hand covering his chest. "I managed to break Denaria's hold on me, but by the time I took an antidote, Braelyn was gone. I've been looking for her ever since." His eyes drifted to the human, whose arms were now around the troll's neck.

"And now this," he growled. "Go get her, Halduron. I know her; she won't come to me while she's still mad, and, so help me, if I go over there, that troll is going to die." With that, he turned and stalked away, a mere shadow of his former self.

* * *

Braelyn did not go quietly. Screaming about how all her loved ones were betraying her, she fought against Halduron and Lorelai as they tried to take her home. The human was enthusiastically aided in her efforts by the troll, who was keen to keep his companion for the night.

It took Lorelai mind controlling Braelyn, and Halduron threatening to arrest Tal'lin, to get the sorry mess sorted out. It was approaching dawn before they got the human home, finding Rommath pacing the foyer, Auriel hovering anxiously in the background.

"Thank the Light!" the mage exclaimed hurrying forward. He attempted to hug Braelyn, but she stepped backwards and slapped him in the face.

"Don't touch me, you bastard!" she snapped, then ran up the stairs. They heard her bedroom door slam a few seconds later.

"Well, that seemed kind of familiar," Halduron said. Lorelai walked over to Rommath, placing a sympathetic hand on his arm.

"I will get Boxer, and we will explain the truth to her in the morning," she said. "It will be all right, Rommath, have faith."

The Grand Magister nodded, but couldn't bring himself to hope.

* * *

AN - yeah, Braelyn is one of those hyperactive, mercurial you want to fight? Hey look! A wombat!

Next Chapter: Braelyn learns the truth, but will she believe it? And will it even matter when King Varian decides to negotiate?


	14. Braelyn Sunreaver?

Braelyn woke up feeling like death. No, worse than death; obviously, she'd died and been brought back to life as Forsaken. She could even see the bright, shimmering outline of a Val'kyr standing above her.

"You're awake," Lorelai said, smoothing down her white priest's robes. "Good. We need to have a little talk about your behaviour last night."

"Afnjefjdfk," Braelyn mumbled through dry, cracked lips, pain shooting through her groggy brain. "No talking... words make the stabby stab in my brain."

"Take this," the priest said in a clipped tone, forcing a vial into Braelyn's hand. She sighed as the human dropped it, making her have to guide it the woman's lips. The purple hangover remedy worked quickly, banishing the headache, and calming the nausea twisting the hunter's stomach.

Braelyn had a few minutes of blissful calm before the memories of last night returned in one painful swoop. She saw Rommath and Denaria together in his lab, saw herself getting drunk at the inn, meeting the troll, stripping off her dress...

"Oh my gods, I gave a troll a lap dance!" she whispered in mortification, covering her face with her hands as she blushed all over her body.

"Yeah, toots, ya did," a male voice said, and Braelyn looked over to see Boxer sitting in her chair. He was not smiling, which was surprising; normally he'd be laughing his arse off at Braelyn's embarrassment. "Lorelai and Halduron saw it all... as did Rommath."

Braelyn winced at that, but then remembered how she felt when the man she loved told her she was unimportant. She straightened her shoulders, tilting her head proudly. "Good."

"Good?!" Lorelai exclaimed. "It damned near killed him to see you getting frisky with that troll."

"Then he knows how I felt when I saw him having sex with that warlock tart."

"He was drugged, B," Boxer explained, patiently. Braelyn snorted.

"Drugged?" she sneered. "Is that the best excuse he could come up with? A bit too convenient for my liking. And, yet, you believe him?"

"I'm a priest, Braelyn Hawke!" Lorelai snapped, glaring at the human. "I know what someone looks like when they're recovering from a potion like the one given to him. It was a Lust potion, the most potent one available. It causes obsessive thoughts on top of the lust, and can cause pain if the victim tries to resist. It's nasty." Braelyn could only stare as the usually calm priest scolded her. "Not only that, I have known Rommath since before your great-grandparents were born; he would never stoop so low as to cheat on someone."

"It wasn't real!" Braelyn said. "He never cared for me, it was just a trick, a ploy! He was just playing with the poor, stupid human wom... " Her words were cut off as Lorelai slapped her hard across her left cheek. She felt her skin burn, and stars danced at the edges of her vision.

"If you honestly believe that Rommath is the type of person to do that, then you never deserved him!" Lorelai glared at Braelyn one last time before walking out the door.

"Wow, never thought I'd see Lorelai mad enough to hit someone," Boxer whistled. Braelyn stared at him, hand cupping her injured cheek. "Listen, toots, you and I both know that crazy warlock is just the kind of person who'd do this kinda thing. She doesn't take rejection too well, ya know?"

Braelyn nodded. "I know," she said softly.

"I saw Rommath as I arrived this mornin', Sweet Pea; the man did not look good at all. He was torturin' himself about how he hadn't seen Denaria for what she is; a deceitful, manipulative bitch. He hates himself for hurtin' ya, is mad at _you_ for pullin' that crazy shit at the bar, and has no idea how to talk to ya 'bout it."

"Really?"

"Really. He wants that troll dead, B," Boxer said grimly. "If Halduron hadn't kicked the troll outta town this mornin', I swear your boy'd be stringin' him up in the Bazaar to use as trainin' dummy."

"I... don't know how to react to this," Braelyn confessed. "Part of me believes you and Lorelai about the potion..."

"The other part?" Boxer prompted when she paused.

"Doesn't want to believe."

"Why the hell not?"

"Because, what's my excuse?" Braelyn said.

"Uh, what now, Sweet Pea?" the goblin asked in confusion.

"If Rommath was drugged, then he's an innocent victim," Braelyn said in a pained voice. "But me? I don't have that excuse. I _chose _to run away, to get drunk, to throw myself at that troll. Damn it!" she hit her pillow in anger. "I knew that Denaria was after him, knew she wasn't above pulling a stunt like this! And I let her win! I should've stayed, should've fought her, fought for him."

Braelyn curled up in a ball, screaming in frustration. "Why can't things be easy, for once in my life?"

Boxer came over to her and patted her shoulder. "C'mon, B. Go take a bath, have something ta eat. You'll feel better, and then ya can go and fix things with Rommath."

Braelyn nodded, slipping out of the bed to head for the bathroom. She let out a startled squeak as Boxer slapped her on the arse playfully. "Next time you wanna get drunk, toots, let me know, will ya? I'd love ta see ya dance!"

"BOXER!"

* * *

Boxer was right about the bath. It did make her feel better, clearing her head so she could think things through calmly and rationally. By the time the water was cold, Braelyn knew what she had to do.

She called for Auriel, asking him to take her belongings across the street to Aethas' house. The chef, who Braelyn now understood to be more of a manservant, was startled, but agreed to do so, noting with some concern the humans sorrowful eyes.

The truth was, Braelyn wasn't sure that she and Rommath could work out their current issues. There was just so much pain and doubt, justified or not, lingering in her heart. What she _was_ sure about was that if they were to have any chance at all, she needed time to think and heal. More importantly, she needed space. To always be around Rommath would just make it harder to come to the right decision.

She put on simple linen dress. It wasn't blue, but an emerald-green colour. She swept her hair up into a bun, and called for her pets. As if sensing her mood, they let out little encouraging sounds, Bitey rubbing against her legs.

Steeling herself, Braelyn headed down to the library, where she knew Rommath would be at this time of night. Normally, she'd be with him. When she entered, she found him sitting at his desk, a mountain of paperwork in front of him. She noticed that he was still wearing his helm, hiding half of his face from her.

She stood there, just watching him work for a few minutes before giving a little cough. She saw him tense. He raised his head, and his eyes were... unreadable. _He's hiding himself from me, _Braelyn thought, a little hurt.

"You're awake at last," he said, voice calm. He clearly did not want to give anything away, and Braelyn felt blind. How was she able to do this without knowing what he thought or felt?

"Yes," she said, and, deciding to just get things over with, added quickly, "I came to say goodbye."

She was pleased to see that did affect him slightly, seeing his eyes widen, and his hand clench around his quill.

"Where are you going?" he asked, in that terribly emotionless voice.

"To stay with Aethas," she replied, trying to keep her voice as calm as his. "Just until I can think things through." She dropped her head, unable to look at him anymore. She heard him get up and walk over to her. He didn't touch her.

"Don't run away from me again, Braelyn. Talk to me. Tell me how to fix this," he said, and she realised that his voice wasn't emotionless, just tightly controlled, as if he was afraid of what he'd say. "Whatever it takes, I will do."

"I don't know that we _can_ fix this," she confessed, and it broke her heart to hear him gasp in pain.

"What I did... " Rommath began, but Braelyn stopped him by placing her hand on his chest. Dear gods, but she wanted to hold him again.

"It isn't about what you did," she told him. "It's what _I _did. How _I _reacted. What _I _thought. I need to come to grips with that. Even though I know what happened to you, part of me still doesn't believe it. Being around you, when we both have so much anger and pain... it's just too much."

"I don't blame you for anything," he said. "You were more a victim than I was. It was you she really wanted to hurt." He growled when she didn't respond.

Her hand flopped to her side as Rommath moved away from her. "Go then," he said, "and may Sunreaver give you the peace you need." Braelyn could hear a faint twinge of jealousy in his voice.

She turned and started to walk away. She'd just reached the doorway when she heard him call out to her. She paused, but did not face him. She felt his hands land on her shoulders, his thumbs gently stroking the bare skin of her neck.

"Before you go, I want you to know one thing," Rommath said, and she could feel his warm breath waft gently across her hair. "I never slept with Denaria. I pushed her away before it got that far, and came looking for you." Braelyn let out a sigh. "I don't know if that means anything to you now, but I needed you to hear it."

Braelyn nodded once, then left their house.

* * *

Rommath never expected Braelyn to stay away so long. He knew she was stubborn, but this...

_It's been three weeks._

He paced around his laboratory relentlessly, a glass of wine in one hand. He couldn't stand to be in his library now; not when she wasn't there, sitting in his lap and feigning interest in whatever alchemical treatise he was attempting to study.

The glass shattered spectacularly when it hit the wall. He remembered when she dropped the vial all those months ago, alerting him to the fact that she spoke Thalassian. Then he remembered the broken bottle of wine as she caught sight of him and Denaria together.

He snarled in anger. _Damn that warlock bitch! This is all her fault!_

If it hadn't been for Denaria, Braelyn would still be here with him, not hiding from him at Sunreaver's house.

_Damn that mage bastard, too!_

He wanted to go to her; to pick her up and carry her home. It's where she belonged, here in this house, with Rommath. Annoying him with her damn lynx, and kissing him goodbye when he left for work.

He missed her.

But his pride wouldn't _let_ him go to her. Not when she so obviously didn't want to see him. He called for another glass of wine, wishing he could forget her, or at least go back to hating her for being human.

_Damn that stubborn hunter!_

* * *

"When did you realise that you love him?" Aethas Sunreaver asked, chuckling when his human guest blushed a violent shade of red and almost choked on her wine.

"I don't..." Braelyn began hotly, then gave up when she saw the look the mage was giving her. "I started feeling attracted to him early on in my stay. We'd argued about political dissidents in the city, and he got all up in my personal space. I couldn't help but notice how attractive he is."

"An argument, what a surprise," Aethas teased. Braelyn stuck her tongue out at him.

"I didn't realise that my feelings had become really serious until after the raid, when I apologised to him for..."

"Another argument?"

"Hey, no one likes a smartass, Sunreaver!" Braelyn snapped. The archmage raised his hands in a placating gesture. "He was so... _sweet_ when he came to me that night," she continued, a dreamy smile gracing her lips as she remembered their first kiss. "However, I think I only accepted that I was in love with Rommath when I saw him and Denaria kissing, and that of course lead to... "

"Another argum...ugh!" Aethas grunted as Braelyn's shoe hit him in the head.

"No argument, just me acting like a drunken hussy," she said, preparing to throw her other shoe if necessary. "I can't believe that I did that. I can't believe that he's forgiven me for that."

"You believed what he said before you left then?" Braelyn nodded. "Then why are you still here?"

Braelyn paused, not sure how to answer. In the past three weeks she'd done a lot of thinking, isolating herself from the outside world for fear that if she went out, she'd find herself walking straight back into Rommath's arms. She'd come to forgive Rommath for kissing Denaria, accepting that he was not at fault. She also accepted that he forgave her for her reaction. It had taken a lot of time, however, to forgive herself; not so much for the drunken dancing, but for continuing to doubt him when she'd learned the truth.

"I'm afraid," she confessed, biting her lower lip. "I might have pushed him too far away this time. Stayed away too long. I can't bear the idea of facing him again, and finding out he thinks I'm not worth it."

"May I tell you something?" Aethas asked, leaning forward. When she nodded, he added, "It may come as a bit of a surprise." He paused, licking his lips.

"I was in love with your mother," he said, and Braelyn nearly dropped her wine.

"I... what?"

"This was back when she began her mage training, well before she met your father," Aethas said. "I thought she was the most beautiful creature I'd ever seen. Thankfully, she felt the same about me, and we spent many happy years together. I would have married her..."

"What happened?" Braelyn asked feeling very awkward. She had no idea that her mum had loved anyone but her father.

"Her parents disapproved of her seeing an elf; they wanted their daughter to marry a human, and have pure-blooded human children," Aethas' words were tinged with bitterness. "I wanted her to ignore them, confident that they'd accept us in time, but she didn't want to disappoint them. She chose to avoid getting married altogether, while I wanted to make our relationship official. So I pushed her... and the more I pushed, the more she resisted. Eventually, we had a massive argument, and she left. I was convinced she would come back, but..."

"She didn't."

"No," Aethas said sadly. "Ellysan is a very stubborn woman. Just like her daughter."

"Yeah," Braelyn said sheepishly, "I've heard that a lot."

"I waited a long time for her return, but the next time I saw her was at her wedding to your father."

"What?!"

"When I got the invitation, I was in a lot of pain, but I had to see... So, I went, and I saw how happy she was with Jasper, how much they truly loved each other, and I realised that it was all for the best. He seemed to know how to work with her stubbornness, not against it."

"How... how is that supposed to help me?" Braelyn asked. "Are you suggesting that I don't get back together with Rommath?"

"No, that's not what I'm saying at all," Aethas explained. "What I'm saying is, that you if you love him, and want to be with him, then you need to go tell him that. Don't keep him waiting, not knowing. It's cruel." He watched Braelyn frown as he spoke.

"Braelyn," he said, drawing her eyes to his. "The hardest part of what happened with your mother was when I received the wedding invitation. I stared at it, thinking 'what if' for hours. 'What if I'd gone after her, would it be our wedding? Or would we have separated regardless?' It was a nightmare.

"Even though I came to see that we wouldn't have lasted anyway, that she was destined for your father, if I'd gone to her, we may have had a little more time together. We could have ended our romantic relationship in a more positive way.

"I can't tell you if you and Rommath are destined to be together for the rest of your lives, but do not let stubbornness and pride end it for you early. Ten days, or ten decades... take what time you can. Don't leave yourself open to the pain of wondering 'what if'."

Braelyn swallowed, looking at Aethas with wonder. It must have taken a lot to confess that to her, and even to allow her into his home, given how much she looked like her mother.

"Thank for telling me, Aethas, it must have been hard," she said. "And I promise, I will go and speak to Rommath tomorrow."

"Good," Aethas said. "I know that he has been troubled by your staying with me so long. He never met your mother, but he knew that I was involved with her at one stage. I think he feared that I would seek to relive that romance with her daughter."

"Okay, that's kind of disturbing," Braelyn said. "No offence, Aethas."

"None taken."

"But, you know what this means, right?" she asked, a mischievous glint in her eye.

"What?" Aethas said, noticing the glint with some apprehension.

"You could have been my dad!"

* * *

Braelyn decided that if she was going to speak to Rommath, she would do so in public. That way Rommath would probably keep his temper in check if he reacted negatively.

She stopped in at a bookshop to buy him a gift. She knew that she didn't have to, but she wanted to. She even borrowed the money from Lorelai, so Rommath wouldn't be paying for his own gift. She would have asked Boxer, but... goblins. His terms probably would've involved her handing over her first-born child.

When she entered Sunfury Spire, she could feel everyone turn their eyes on her, but she ignored them. She had _her _eyes fixed firmly on Rommath, who had noticed her entry almost straight away. He tensed up, his back going rigid, and she could see the confusion in his eyes. He wasn't expecting her to come here.

"Miss Hawke," Lor'temar said with a polite bow, "what you brings you here? I'm afraid I have no news from Stormwind."

"I was hoping to speak with the Grand Magister," Braelyn replied, trying to ignore the grin Halduron sent her way, or the two thumbs up he gave Rommath.

"Very well," the Regent Lord said, "but I must ask you to be quick." Braelyn nodded as she walked to one side. Rommath seemed to hesitate, but, seeing her beseeching look, followed after her.

"What is it?" he asked, stiffly.

"I... wanted to give you something," Braelyn said, handing him the brightly wrapped gift. He accepted it automatically, giving her a puzzled look when he unwrapped it and read the book's rather bland title; _Everything You Need to Know About DIY Repairs_.

"I had it personalised," Braelyn said, gesturing for him to open it. She saw Rommath's eyes twitch in amusement when he read what she had written;

_Can we fix it?_

_Yes, we can!_

Rommath laughed, and it was the most beautiful sound Braelyn had every heard; rich,deep, and loud. So loud it caused everyone to stare at them openly, abandoning all attempts at subtlety. The Grand Magister _never _laughed. "I'm sure I'll get a lot of use out of this," he said.

"Do you forgive me?" Braelyn asked softly. Rommath slid an arm around her waist, drawing her to him. Even though she couldn't see his mouth, she knew he was smiling.

"Only if you forgive me for refusing to see Denaria for what she is."

"Done," Braelyn said happily, smiling when he reached up, lowered his helm and kissed her, right there in front of everybody. She could hear Halduron laughing madly in the background, and stuck her middle finger up at him. He just laughed harder.

Lor'themar Theron just looked on in bewilderment, the last person in Silvermoon to find out about the Grand Magister and the human hostage. He was about to politely interrupt when a messenger hurried out of the portal room. The courier ran up to the Regent Lord, panting heavily, and handed him a rolled parchment.

"Message for you, my Lord," the messenger gasped.

Lor'themar took the scroll, raising an eyebrow when he saw the wax seal. He raised his eyes to his Grand Magister, who was now standing with his forehead resting against Braelyn's. He coughed loudly, and the couple pulled apart, though Rommath kept a hand resting on the small of Braelyn's back.

"I just received a letter from King Varian," he said. He watched as Rommath's face tightened, and the human woman turned to him with a gasp, and a gentle murmur of surprise.

"What does it say?" Rommath said as he tightened his arm around Braelyn's waist, tucking her into his side.

Lor'themar broke the wax seal, splitting the lion's head in half. He sighed. The message the scroll contained would probably devastate Rommath and the girl. He cleared his throat and began to read.

_To: Lor'themar Theron, Honourable Regent Lord of Quel'Thalas_

_From: Varian Wrynn, King of Stormwind._

_Lor'themar,_

_After speaking with her parents, I am prepared to offer you a deal in exchange for Braelyn Hawke's safe return. I am afraid that Jaina is adamant about not releasing any Sunreaver prisoners, and the other Alliance leaders are uneasy about trading any other Horde captives. What I can offer you is this; building materials or any other supplies you might need for the restoration of Silvermoon City, to the value of 100,000 sovereigns._

_Send word if the terms are agreeable, by tomorrow morning if possible. We have members of the Argent Crusade standing by to teleport to Silvermoon to collect Miss Hawke._

_Varian Wrynn._

* * *

**AN-** geeze, poor bastards can't catch a break.

Next Chapter: Lor'themar makes an interesting proposition that neither Rommath nor Braelyn expect, but will it lead to a happy ending, or only delay the inevitable?


	15. Don't dream it's over

"Will everyone but Halduron, Rommath, and Miss Hawke, please leave," the Regent Lord ordered. He waited until everyone filed out, keeping his eye on the Grand Magister and human, who were standing in silence, arms wrapped tightly around each other. Braelyn looked like she didn't know whether to be happy or sad, while Rommath was stoney faced.

"Surely you knew something like this could happen?" he asked them.

"Yes," Braelyn said, "but... it's just the timing, I guess." She lay her head on Rommath's shoulder.

"One hundred thousand sovereigns?" Rommath spat out venomously. "Is that all they offer? Times that by a hundred, and it still wouldn't be a fair trade."

Reminding himself to speak to Halduron about why the Ranger-General had failed to mention that Rommath had gotten involved romantically with their hostage, Lor'themar tried to think of something to say that wouldn't inflame the situation.

He needed all the help he could get when it came to rebuilding Quel'Thalas, but... Rommath was his friend. He knew the Grand Magister deserved some sort of happiness after all this time. Lor'themar sighed, and, not for the first time, wished that someone else was leader for a day.

"I won't lie," the Regent-Lord said. "I am inclined to accept this deal."

"But?" Rommath prompted, eyes fixed on Lor'themar.

"I can see that you and Miss Hawke have formed an attachment," he replied. "So foolish, Rommath. Cross faction affairs tend to end... badly. You know this."

"But not always," Braelyn said defiantly.

"No," Lor'themar sighed, "not always." He paced the foyer of Sunfury Spire, lost in thought. "Because you have been such a good friend, Rommanth, and so devoted to our people, I will let Braelyn decide what to do."

"What?!" Braelyn and Halduron said in unison. Rommath was busy staring holes in Lor'themar's head.

"If Braelyn choses to leave, I will arrange for the transfer to take place. If, however, she decides she wants to stay with you, Rommath, then I will extend to her the citizenship of our country." The Regent Lord, paused, looking at the human. She was looking very hopeful. "I trust you understand the consequences of accepting that offer?" he asked.

Braelyn nodded. "Yes, my Lord, I do," she said quickly. Lor'themar held up a hand to stop her from saying anything else.

"Do not make your decision now. Leave it until morning. You and Rommath need to discuss things first."

"We will do that, my Lord," Rommath said. He bowed to Lor'themar. "Thank you."

"Do not thank me yet, my friend," Lor'themar replied. He watched the Grand Magister leave, his hand clasped tightly by Braelyn.

"This well not end well," he murmured to Halduron.

"You don't know Braelyn like I do, Lor'themar," Halduron replied. "If anyone can make this work out, it's her."

* * *

"You can see your family again," Rommath pointed out to Braelyn. "Your friends."

They were in their library, Braelyn standing in front of a window, watching as Rommath paced the floor, brows furrowed, deep in thought. He was always so graceful, even when he was so wound up.

"I'll be able to see them again, either way," she replied, and he stared at her. "I'll be a citizen, Rommath, not a hostage; free to come and go as I please."

"Braelyn," Rommath said, "they'll call you a traitor. You won't be able to go back to Alliance lands without risk of being arrested."

"I don't have to go back to Alliance lands to see them," Braelyn pointed out. "It will be safe to meet them in Shattrath, Gadgetzhan, even Booty Bay."

"No one's ever safe in Booty Bay," Rommath muttered.

"Then I'll take bodyguards," she shot back, "although I'm a little disappointed you think so little of my skills as a hunter."

"It's not that," he snapped. "I just thought you'd be happy to go home, walk the forests of Elwynn again."

"How can I be happy about something that separates me from you forever, you stupid man!" Braelyn yelled, eyes blazing, hands on hips.

Rommath stared at her, and his words died on his lips. She was so damn _beautiful_, standing there bathed in light, her eyes glowing almost as brightly as his. His anger left him, and he all he could do was march over to her and pull her flush against him.

She seemed to freeze up when he kissed her, but after he bit her bottom lip gently, she relaxed. Braelyn wound her arms around his neck, pulling herself even closer to him. Rommath ran his hands up her back, then back down again, undoing the buttons of her dress as he did so.

"It's about bloody time," she said, kissing his chin.

"I just want you to stop yelling at me," Rommath goaded.

"You know," she whispered when he started kissing along the elegant column of her neck, "I feel like a drink. Maybe that nice troll will b..."

"You want me to get arrested for murder, woman?" he demanded, sliding his hands around her hips. "Because that's what will happen if I see that damn troll again."

Braelyn giggled, slapping Rommath's hands away, and stepping back. She yanked her arms out of her sleeves, letting her dress fall to the floor in a graceful heap, and kicked off her shoes. She heard one of his beautiful vases shatter.

"Oops," she said.

"I always hated that thing," Rommath replied, eyes darkening. He grabbed Braelyn, and threw her over his shoulder. He practically ran up the stairs, causing her laugh to sound all wobbly.

Rommath kicked his bedroom door open, stopping only when Braelyn grabbed the door jamb. "Wait!" she cried.

"What now?" Rommath growled.

"I can't go in there!"

"Why not?"

"Because you told me that I was never allowed in there. Ever," Braelyn teased. Rommath just growled as he yanked her forward, causing her to lose her grip.

He walked over to his bed, laying her down carefully. He followed after her, raising himself above her with one arm. He trailed his finger down her cheek, smirking when she blushed.

"I think we can do away with that rule from now on," he said.

"Good," Braelyn replied, hands working to release the clasps on his robes. "It was a stupid rule anyway."

* * *

Rommath lay on his back, one arm tucked behind his head, the other holding Braelyn to his side. She nestled against him, head on his shoulder, hand resting lightly on his chest. Her pale brown hair glimmered in the starlight, and she was smiling as she slept, his fingers tracing circles on her bare skin.

He was at peace, _truly _at peace, for the first time in a hundred years.

His hand paused as Braelyn muttered something in her sleep. "Not so sexy with your hair on fire, are you, bitch?"

Rommath laughed softly. He let his eyes close, and was soon asleep.

_Rommath frowned. Why was he in Stormwind? He hadn't been here in at least two hundred years. And why weren't the pathetic humans screaming for the guards?_

_He looked around. It was if he were invisible; the people around him were paying him no attention. He didn't realise he was dreaming until a couple of guards walked right through him._

_He was standing in what appeared to be a market place, on the steps of an auction house. The area was crowded, with no room to walk without having to push a way through a wall of people. Was there some sort of human celebration going on?_

_"That traitorous bitch is finally going to get what's coming to her," an angry female voice said. Rommath turned to his left; a group of mages were standing against a wall, gossiping. A feeling of unease settled in his stomach._

_"Can you imagine throwing yourself at a blood elf?" one of the others said. "Ewww."_

_"It's worse than that," a third voice said. "Rumour has it she has a couple of kids back in Silvermoon."_

_"Whore!" cried the first woman, and Rommath wanted to punch her. He knew they were speaking about Braelyn, he just knew it. But where was she? _

_"Make way!" a guard bellowed as he pushed his way through the crowd, people scattering to avoid a collision. Behind him, two more guards held a bound and gagged figure, who was struggling furiously against her bonds._

_It was Braelyn._

_Rommath felt his blood boil as he saw that she was covered in bruises, and that her beautiful hair had been shorn off. She looked older, but it was definitely Braelyn. He'd recognise that sweet face anywhere. At any age._

_He strode forward, planning to drag her away from those bastards, when a second lot of guards appeared. He froze when he saw who it was that they dragged between them._

_It was himself._

_He was bound in arcane shackles; more than were actually required to contain his magic. He was struggling like a mad beast, yelling at the Stormwind filth to take their hands off his wife, to let her go. By the time they got to the makeshift stage, false-Rommath was pleading for Braelyn's life, promising the guards anything they'd like in return for freeing her._

_They didn't listen._

_Rommath watched in fury as the dream version of himself was forced to his knees at the front of the wooden stage. Sitting in front of him was a block of wood, and he knew what it was for; it was a chopping block. They were going to make him watch as they beheaded his wife, the mother of his children._

_He wanted to scream, as his dream self was doing, as Braelyn was forced to her knees, her graceful neck slammed against the wood. She had stopped struggling, but their was still fire in her eyes as she looked at her husband._

_"Stay strong, my love," she said in Thalassian, and the crowd began to jeer her for speaking in the tongue of the enemy._

_The crowd fell silent as the King appeared on the stage, a man and a woman clad in Alliance regalia at his side. Rommath gasped; the woman looked just like Braelyn, only older._

_Her parents were here, and they were going to watch their daughter's execution. And do nothing._

_The woman came and knelt by Rommath's side. She said nothing, just watched her daughter in distaste as Braelyn told him how much she loved him, that he needed to take care of the children._

_The man, whom Rommath assumed to be Braelyn's father, stood by his child's side, face impassive. The King stepped forward._

_"Braelyn Hawke," he began, having to yell to be heard over the crowd, who had once again started to call out insults, "You have been found guilty of the crime of treason, and been sentenced to death. Have you any last words?"_

_"I have never betrayed my country!" Braelyn yelled, but was drowned out by a chorus of catcalls and jeers. "What crime is there in love?"_

_Rommath clenched his fists as he saw Braelyn's strength fade from her eyes. Her beautiful eyes... he would never see them again._

_"Jasper," Varian said, "as her father, it is your right to administer this punishment."_

_"She's no child of mine," Jasper Hawke spat, drawing his blade._

_"You know," Ellysan Hawke finally spoke, "this is all your fault, Rommath."_

_"How is this my fault?" both Rommaths said._

_"If you had let her go, if you had sent her home, none of this would be happening." She looked down at him and smiled mockingly. It was disconcerting to be looked at like that by someone who looked so much like the woman he loved._

_The king gave a signal, and Jasper Hawke brought his great sword down on Braelyn's neck. With a violent gush of blood, Braelyn's head dropped onto the stage. The King kicked it into the crowd, whose cheers almost deafened Rommath. He watched as her body jerked and then rolled over like a marionette whose strings had been cut._

_Both Rommaths screamed until their voices gave out. Ellysan laughed, and jerked dream-Rommath's head up by his ponytail. _

_"Go home, Grand Magister," she said, "and tell your children how you killed their mother."_

* * *

Rommath awoke with a start, waking Braelyn with his frantic yell. She called out to him, wrapping her arms around him, and crooning to him softly until he calmed down.

He looked at her, still so young, with her hair still long and glorious. He reached out and grabbed a few strands, winding them around his fingers. "By the Light," he murmured, "you're alive."

"Of course I am," Braelyn replied, kissing his forehead. "It was just a nightmare, honey."

"It was more than that," he declared, pulling her against him. He rolled her over onto her back, pinning her to the mattress. He bent down and kissed her, not stopping until they were both breathless, and the sun began to peek over the horizon.

* * *

Braelyn woke up in an empty bed. She was very disappointed, and a little hurt, by that. She got up, chosing to dress herself in one of Rommath's black silk shirts, before heading off to find her missing lover.

She grinned at finally being able to call him that.

As she'd suspected, Rommath was in the library. He was clad in his robes, but not his helm. He had his back to her, looking out one of the floor-to-ceiling windows. She snuck up behind him, wrapping her arms around his waist.

"Goodmorning, Rommath!" she said, but paused when she felt him tense up in her embrace. "Honey?"

He turned around, and after one look at his face, Braelyn knew something was wrong. His eyes were cold and distant, and he wouldn't look at her. He pulled away from her.

"We need to talk," he said firmly.

"About what?"

"Sending you home."

Braelyn forced herself to remain calm. "Rommath, we discussed this already. I'm staying here."

"You can't," Rommath said, and pushed Braelyn away when she tried to take his hands in her own.

"Why not," she asked, horrified to feel herself begin to tear up already.

"Because it was just a dream," he said roughly, and Braelyn felt like she'd been kicked in the head. "These feelings, _your _feelings, are not real. They're just a passing fancy, a delusion brought on by months of captivity and confusion."

"How can you say that?" Braelyn hissed. "After all that we've been through. Last night..."

"Last night was a mistake," Rommath said, and this time Braelyn gasped and brought a hand to her heart. She felt like he had just stabbed her. "I was weak, and selfish."

"How can you say that?"

"Because it's the truth." Rommath started to pace. "You are so young compared to me, but you will die so much earlier..."

"You think I care about that shit?" Braelyn demanded, outraged. Why was he acting this way? Last night he had been so loving.

"You should," he retorted. "As you age, you will truly realise all you gave up to stay with me, and then you will start to resent it. Resent me. You will be trapped in this city, with friends who do not age, as you begin your decline. You will miss the deaths of your parents, the wedding of your cousin, the birth of her children. Never again will you see them, never again step outside Quel'Thalas; can you honestly say that this does not bother you?"

"Rommath," Braelyn said in frustration, "we discussed this. I can go to meet my parents at Shat..."

"No!" he snapped, and his cool demeanour began to crack. "If you stay, I will not let you out of the city. It's too dangerous. The Alliance will come for you..."

Braelyn suddenly realised what Rommath's problem was. "Rommath, it was just a nightmare..."

"They killed you, Braelyn!" he yelled, and she caught a glimpse of the inner turmoil Rommath was experiencing. "They tied me down and made me watch as your own father beheaded you!"

Braelyn winced in horror. Rommath's words were like a slap in the face.

"We had children, but your father killed you, anyway." He took a deep, shuddering breath. "I care for you too much to have that happen to you, to see you die because of your feelings for me." Seeing Braelyn about to start arguing again, he added, "Don't do that to me, Braelyn. If you care at all, don't force me to be your death."

Braelyn watched in stunned surprise as Rommath finally collapsed into a chair, head in his hands. She felt a brief flicker of sympathy, but stomped it down ruthlessly.

"You selfish, cowardly bastard!" she yelled. Rommath flinched, but did not look at her. "I am willing to give up everything to be with you, and not only do you insinuate that my feelings aren't real, but you also piss all over my intelligence!" She took a deep breath of her own.

"I know the dangers, and I know the consequences of my choices! And I am willing to face them all down. But you!" she said, pointing at him. "You won't even fight for your own happiness. You would throw my love away because you're too scared to let me take the risk of being with you. All because of a stupid dream."

Rommath's head snapped up, and he stared at her. "My happiness lies in you being safe and well, and if that means sending you away, then that's what I'll do."

"You bastard," she repeated. "I love you. Even as you sit there breaking my heart, I still love you." She felt the tears start to fall, and wiped them away on her sleeve. Rommath didn't move.

"Fine," she said, stepping backwards and calling for Violet and Bitey. "If you aren't prepared to fight, then I can't force you. May the Light show you more mercy than you've shown me."

With one last, long look at Rommath, Braelyn turned, picked up the dress she'd left laying on the floor last night, and exited the house she'd come to call home.

"Goodbye, Braelyn," Rommath whispered, kissing the long lock of hair he'd cut from her head during the night. "May the Light bless you, and always keep you safe."

* * *

**AN **- well, how about them apples? Nice and angsty for you.

Next chapter: Braelyn's not so happy homecoming.


	16. Family reunion

Braelyn did not remember much of her journey from Silvermoon to Stormwind. She did remember walking to Sunfury Spire feeling angrier than she had ever been in her entire life. Halduron was surprised by her appearance, and attempted to speak to her, but she fobbed him off with a simple, "Don't."

Lor'themar looked at her with sympathy, but, considering the Argent Crusaders were already there, it was obvious he had been expecting her. Perhaps Rommath had even sent word before she woke up that morning.

That thought made Braelyn even angrier.

She didn't speak to the Crusaders, even though one of them was Anders. They couldn't port directly to Stormwind, so they went to a second city first. It was probably Shattrath, but Braelyn wasn't paying attention. She was too busy stewing in her own fury.

The crusaders were able to port directly into Stormwind Keep, rather than the mage tower. This was a good thing. The less time Braelyn spent around mages, the better. Dealing with her mother was going to be hard enough.

As soon as arrived in Stormwind, she found herself swept up in the cyclone that was her parents. They threw their arms around her, and hugged her as if she'd been gone ten years.

She hadn't even been gone ten months.

"Oh, Braelyn," Ellysan Hawke said. "How worried we've been."

"You look angry, though," Jasper Hawke added. "Which means you're okay. If you weren't angry, then I'd be concerned. My girls can survive anything on the strength of their fury," he joked.

_Oh, Dad, if only you knew, _Braelyn thought. _This anger is all that's keeping me alive, I swear it._

"I'm fine, Dad," Braelyn said aloud. "Just tired," she lied, because how could she tell them the truth?

_By the way everyone, I fell in love with the Grand Magister of Silvermoon, but he broke my heart..._

"Well, when we get home you can rest as long as you like," her mother said, brushing her hair. She hadn't fussed this much since Braelyn was five, and had almost drowned in Mirror Lake.

"Can we go now?" Braelyn asked, horrified by the desperate tone of her voice.

"I'm afraid not, pumpkin," Jasper Hawke said, and she couldn't even be bothered yelling at him for using that nickname in front of a roomful of strangers. "The King wishes to speak to you, first."

Braelyn didn't want to go, but the look on her parents' faces told her she did not have a choice. She was led to the King's office by the same judgmental advisor she'd met on her first visit to the keep. He wasn't so judgemental now. He actually seemed to be admiring her.

King Varian and King Genn were sitting comfortably, but stood when Braelyn entered. They looked at each other awkwardly for a few minutes, before Braelyn dropped into a curtsy. Genn Greymane bowed in return, but Varian Wrynn came up and took her hand in his.

"Miss Hawke, welcome home," he said, bending to place a kiss on her cheek. "I'm relieved to see you alive and in one piece."

"Thank you, your highness," she murmured, letting the king lead her to a chair.

"Will you tell us what happened?" King Varian asked, curious. He looked at Braelyn critically; she seemed angry, but the anger was fragile, as if it were just a bandage for her real emotions.

Braelyn didn't want to talk to the Kings about what had happened to her, not when there was so much she wouldn't be able to say. But the King would brook no refusal, so she began her story by telling them about the disastrous battle at Warsong Gulch.

"It all began in Ashenvale..."

* * *

While Braelyn was telling her story to the Alliance kings, Rommath was contemplating burning down his house. It was already torture being in it without Braelyn, and she'd only been gone a few hours. The was no warmth, no light, no joy. It was as if her absence robbed the building of some vital essence.

What would it be like tomorrow, next month, next year?

"What did you do?" Lorelai asked from the doorway. Her eyes were accusatory, and she was furious, but Rommath was beyond feeling guilty. He was beyond feeling anything but regret.

"I saved her life," was all he said, sitting on Braelyn's favourite couch. He could still see her sitting here, still smell her perfume. He suspected he always would.

"By breaking her heart?"

"She'll forget me in time, find a man more worthy of her love than I ever was." By the Light, that thought hurt, but he knew it was the price he had to pay to keep her safe. As long as she was happy and well in the long-term, he could deal with his own sense of loss. It was his punishment for causing her so much pain, even though the hurt was for her own good.

"You poor fool, you really believe that, don't you?" Lorelai asked with sympathy, and Rommath hated that most of all. He didn't want her sympathy, didn't need it. "Can I do anything for you?"

"Leave me," he replied, and when the priest went to protest, he snapped, "Just go, Lorelai!"

Without another word, the priest did as he asked. He let out a shaky breath when he heard the front door shut behind her.

He had fired Auriel that afternoon, sending him to Aethas. He had assigned his apprentices new mentors. He was alone now... No, not completely alone. He would always have the ghost of her memory to keep him company as he did his duty for Quel'Thalas.

A blessing, and a curse.

It was so quiet.

* * *

"Braelyn! By the Light, you're home!" Odariah cried as she grabbed her cousin in a hug. It was the morning after her return to Stormwind and she was 'resting' in her childhood bedroom. Her stay in the city had been shorter than expected due to a sudden outburst at the king.

After hearing her tale, King Varian had told her that "now she should realise why the Horde needed to stopped." Braelyn responded without thinking, saying that everyone needed to be stopped. For good measure, she gave a very long and impressive rant about the cycle of racism, petty grudge-holding, and short-sighted vindictiveness.

King Varian was impressed with Braelyn's boldness, but not so happy with everything else. Only the timely intervention of King Greymane prevented Braelyn being carted of to the dungeons. He asked Varian to remember that the 'poor girl' had just been through a terrible trauma, and that she was obviously not thinking clearly.

The King of Stormwind accepted that reasoning, but Braelyn was sent on her way regardless. She didn't even have time to look for that annoying guard. King Greymane escorted her and her parents to the city gates, and, well out of Ellysan and Jasper's earshot, told her not to think too poorly of Varian. The man had a son, but no daughters, which meant he couldn't recognise the look of a heartbroken young woman when he saw one.

Braelyn was startled by that, but then relieved. It felt... nice that her pain was recognised for what it really was, without her even having to talk about it. She resolved to thank the kindly Gilnean by sending him a gift once her life had settled down some.

She smiled up at Odariah, probably her first sincere smile since her arrival in Stormwind. "Thanks, 'Riah," she said, giving the shadow priest a squeeze. "It's good to be back." She couldn't say that she was home; no, home would always be that magnificent house in Silvermoon City.

Braelyn looked around. "Where's Andorien?"

"Here," the elf in question said, walking into the room carrying a tray loaded with breakfast foods.

"Dear gods, dad must think there's an army in here!" Braelyn exclaimed.

"Not an army, just a daughter kept hostage for months on end, so obviously starved and mistreated." Andorien's words were lighthearted, but they conjured up the memory of Rommath and Braelyn sharing their first breakfast together.

"Cousin, what is it?" Odariah asked, noticing the pained expression that crossed Braelyn's face. She exchanged a worried look with Andorien when a tear slid down the hunter's cheek.

"I... I... need to tell you something," Braelyn began, "but you have to promise me something first."

"Of course, Braelyn," Andorien said, "you know that you can tell us anything."

Braelyn chewed on her bottom lip. "First, you must promise me that whatever I tell you here today stays with us. My parents, especially, _cannot _find out." She waited until her friends nodded before continuing. "Secondly, please promise you won't hate me."

"As if we could ever hate you!" Odariah exclaimed.

"You say that now," Braelyn said, "but just wait until I finish..."

By the time Braelyn finished speaking, she was a little hoarse, and her friends had run through every emotion possible, and probably created a few new ones. Odariah was shocked and angry at the beginning, but was now sympathetic towards Braelyn. Andorien, meanwhile, was not angry exactly, but very uneasy. Given the hostile relationship between the Night Elves and the Sin'dorei, that was probably the best reaction Braelyn could expect from the Druid.

"Braelyn... you never do things by halves, do you?" Andorien asked with a shake of his head.

"I didn't plan this," she replied, breaking into tears. "I wish... "

"Wish what?" Odariah asked.

"That I hadn't yelled at him before I left," Braelyn sobbed. "I wish our goodbye hadn't been so angry. I wish I knew how he really felt about me. I wish he hadn't pushed me away."

"Braelyn, can't you see?" Andorien asked.

"See what?"

"Rommath loves you, too," Odariah answered. "Pushing you away was the only way he knew how to protect you. He sacrificed his own happiness to try to ensure your own."

That statement did little to improve her spirits, but the knowledge that her friends stood by her was enough to give her some comfort, and the strength to face life without Rommath.

* * *

Ellysan Hawke was a mother, a wife, a sister, an aunt, and one kick ass mage. She was many things; but a fool wasn't one of them. So when her daughter began to recover and re-engage with the world outside her bedroom, acting like her ordeal was no big deal, Ellysan called bullshit.

She recognised grief when she saw it, even when it was buried beneath an angry, then happy, façade. She herself had once sported a look like it, and thought she was fooling the world.

Ellysan knew that whatever had happened to her daughter involved more than the loss of her friend, and the trauma of her abduction by that death knight. Something terrible had happened to her baby in Silvermoon, and she needed to find out what. She was beginning to fear that Braelyn had been assaulted.

She had confronted Odariah and Andorien about it, knowing that Braelyn would have confided in them at least, but they refused to say anything. Her niece looked like she wanted to tell Ellysan, but her loyalty to her cousin won out in the end.

Ellysan had no choice but to do what she was about to do. Sitting down at the desk in her study, the mage reached for some parchment, a bottle of ink, and her quill. She hesitated for the briefest of moments, then began writing.

_Dear Aethas,_

_I know I have no right to ask you for favours, but I need to know what's going on with Braelyn. What in the Light's name have you people done to my daughter?!_

* * *

"I'm glad she got a nice funeral," Braelyn said, taking a sip of her Dwarven ale. "I'm sorry I missed it."

"The Night Elves let us bury her at the Grove of the Ancients," Odariah said. "Your parents came, too, said that Bitsie was one of the family." She sniffled, and wiped her eyes on her sleeve.

"We're sorry we couldn't save Growly," Andorien said softly, grasping Braelyn's hand. "But the damage to his face was too severe. He would never have been able to hunt or even eat again."

"I... suspected as much," Braelyn replied, wiping away her own tears. "Thank you for showing him mercy."

A fortnight had passed since her return, and the interest surrounding Braelyn had started to die down. Free from people's curious questioning, she had begun to take part in, and enjoy, the limited activities a small town like Goldshire offered.

Tonight, she and her friends were spending their afternoon at the inn, drinking, honouring their fallen loved one, and half-heartedly planning their next adventure.

As Braelyn wanted to leave the Eastern Kingdoms for a while, Odariah had suggested a trip to Silithus in Bitisie's honour. The little rogue had loved it out there, for Light know's what reason. Odariah didn't mind it, but Braelyn hated it because those silithids really creeped her out, even though she'd heard they made great pets. Andorien didn't like it either, but because of the heavy Cenarion Circle presence. They tended to try to recruit every druid they came across, and were very persistent.

But the hunter and the druid felt they could put their dislike aside for a few days for Bitisie's sake.

"Did you guys know about the raid on Silvermoon?" Braelyn asked.

"Yes, your mother and father told us all about it," Andorien said. "We wanted to go, but..."

"But what?"

"My parents put their feet down," Odariah said with a shrug. "They thought it was a crazy idea, that it would just get you and the raiders killed. Dad said that if Aunt Ellysan wanted to risk her own daughter's life, that was fine, but that he'd join the Horde before he risked his own child."

"Ouch," Braelyn said. "How bad did Mum maul him?"

"Jackson ended up spending a week at the Cathedral of Light, healing," Andorien said, with a low chuckle. "Your mother is very intimidating."

"I really want to know what happened to the raiders that helped me escape," Braelyn said. "They got me out of the city, then abandoned me in the middle of the night."

"Well, we heard some rumours, but they were so crazy, we didn't believe them," Odariah said, nibbling on some venison jerky.

"Go on then," Braelyn prompted impatiently.

"Okay, so the first we heard was from a group who said that you had definitely gotten out of Silvermoon," Odariah said. "The raid leader said he saw you leave with their hunter, and that he was positive a Dwarf paladin and a human mage escaped in the same direction. He and the rest of his party had to flee in other directions, and had been forced to go directly to the Plaguelands to wait for you, or a message that you'd portalled home."

"Only you and the others never turned up, and no message came," Andorien said. "We thought you'd died out in the Ghostlands."

"But then the strangest thing happened," Odariah said. "The missing raiders began showing up in the strangest of places."

"The mage appeared first," Andorien revealed. "In Shattrath. She portalled right into the middle of the Upper City and promptly collapsed. She was out cold for a week, completely mana-dry. No one could understand why she chose to go there, especially since a mage of her experience should have know how dangerous it was to teleport when so badly injured."

"The paladin was next," the priest continued. "He turned up in Ironforge, waltzing into his sister's house like nothing had happened. He seemed to have forgotten all about the raid until his nephew asked him about it."

"The hunter was the last to turn up," the night elf said. "He traveled all the way to the Halfhill Market in Pandaria. Apparently, he was in the middle of buying some supplies, when all of a sudden he started swearing and going on about someone he'd left behind."

"The weirdest thing, though," Odariah said, excited by the mystery of it all, "is that when they were confronted by Aunt Ellysan and Lady Proudmoore, they all said the exact same thing. They said that they'd gotten you out of the city and safely to the meeting point, where they decided to wait overnight for the mage to heal a bit. They went to bed fully intending to take you to the Plaguelands, but at some point during the night they'd been told to leave you, that they'd been..."

"Mind controlled by a Stormwind city guard?" Braelyn interrupted. Odariah and Andorien both looked surprised.

"Yes!" her cousin exclaimed "But how did you..."

"Bastard!" Braelyn swore loudly. "That interfering, smug, know-it-all bastard! I want to find him and kick him right in his stupid, stupid face!"

Her outburst had drawn the attention of the rest of the inn's occupants, but they assumed she was ranting about one of her blood elf 'tormentors', so they merely raised their glasses and offered up a few "hear, hear, darlin', you give 'im what for!"s.

"Braelyn?" Andorien asked. "You believe what they said?"

"Of course I do!" she replied. "Remember the day I delivered that letter to the King, and got roped into helping him?"

"Yeah," Odariah said, "but what's that got to do with... oh. You said you'd been mind controlled."

"By a guard," Andorien continued.

"Exactly," Braelyn said. "And I've seen him twice since then. Once, in a dream, and then again in the Ghostlands, where he told me I definitely wasn't going home, because I 'needed to be in Silvermoon'."

"What?!" Odariah exclaimed.

"At first, I refused to believe him, but then the others just up and vanished on me, and..." her voice trailed off as she thought of Rommath, and remembered the epiphany she'd had about working to combat racism.

It all seemed so foolish now.

Recognising what he and Odariah called Braelyn's 'Rommath face', Andorien reached over and clasped the hunter's hand, squeezing it tightly.

"Remember the good times, Braelyn," he counselled. "Don't dwell on the bad."

Braelyn nodded, but before she could say anything, a strange sound vibrated through the inn. It sounded like people, or animals, running across the building's roof. Then there was sound of guards yelling outside, and a female orc laughing and barking out orders.

Braelyn and her friends grabbed their weapons, heading outside as they instructed the inn's patrons to either prepare to fight, or to seek shelter in the basement.

As she stepped outside, Braelyn was hit with an overwhelming sense of fear. It was almost enough to cripple her, but instead of cowering in place, she took off running towards the Jasperlode Mine. Even in the grip of such terror, she was able to make out what was happening.

The Horde were raiding Goldshire.

Again.

* * *

**AN - **I don't know why, but I find these 'filler' chapters the slowest to write. I think in this chapter's case, it was because it involved tying up a few loose ends, and referring to things that happened a while ago. There is probably only going to be another two chapters in this story, along with a short epilogue. But don't worry, I have a sequel planned, at least one one-shot featuring Lethallan and Mangle, and a what-if story. Go me. The what-if story is going to be a bit outlandish, but should be fun.

Next Chapter: During the heat of battle, Braelyn runs into a familiar face. She also makes an important decision about her future.

PS - I have never raided Goldshire, nor do I hang out there. I have better things to do, like hover over the Shrine of Seven Stars.


	17. Decisions both good and bad

By the time the fear wore off, Braelyn was isolated from her friends and the rest of Goldshire's defenders. She started to run back towards the village, planning to use her distance as an advantage.

As she ran past a particularly large oak tree, Braelyn heard a faint rustling, followed by the soft twang of a bow being fired. She dodged to one side, but the arrow wasn't aimed at her, but at the ground. A second later she was stunned as she reached the edge of the binding shot's area of effect.

When her mind cleared, Braelyn looked around for the enemy hunter. "Why do you guys insist on raiding Goldshire? There's nothing here of any use to you," she called out.

"It be the challenge, mon," a voice replied from the tree behind her, and Braelyn had the weirdest feeling she'd heard it before. There was the rustling of branches as a troll jumped down, landing in front of her. "All dem brave heroes of da Alliance in one handy location."

Braelyn stared at her opponent, chewing her bottom lip. There was something about him... He was tall, like the rest of his people, with a vibrant teal mohawk, and eyes almost the same colour. His tusks were long and elegant, jutting forward from lips curved in a smug grin.

A memory of her drunken shenanigans in Silvermoon flashed before her eyes, and Braelyn blushed in mortification. Of all the trolls that could have raided her home town, it had to be the one she'd made a fool of herself in front of.

Noticing her embarrassed recognition, the troll's grin widened. "Nice ta see ya remember ol' Tal'lin, little miss," he laughed.

"I wish I could forget," Braelyn muttered, drawing her bow.

"No need ta do dat, I ain't gonna hurt ya," Tal'lin said. "Let's just have a little chat, maybe a dance?"

Braelyn shot at him, but the troll rolled out the way with a delighted laugh.

"I was so happy ta see ya runnin' along here, girl," he said. "I was hopin' ta see ya again." Braelyn decided she needed to get back to the village, so started moving to one side.

A high-pitched screech almost deafened her, and two brightly coloured raptors burst out of the undergrowth, hemming Braelyn in.

"Damn," she mumbled, trying to find another way past Tal'lin. His pets weren't attacking her, they weren't even intimidating her, but they were watching her every move, and Braelyn knew that if she tried to go past them, they would go her.

"Don' be leaving so soon, mon," Tal'lin said, sauntering up to her. "Tell me, do ya little friends know 'bout how ya danced for meh? Do dey know 'bout what ya got up ta with the Grand Magister?" He trailed a finger down her face, just like Rommath used to do. The memory of her love, and the threat contained in the troll's words caused Braelyn to snap.

With a swift movement, she buried her knee in Tal'lin's groin. As the hunter was wearing mail armour, it hurt Braelyn quite a bit, but she took advantage of the troll's pained grunt to slam the same knee into his face. When Tal'lin hit the ground, his breath laboured and wheezy, she took off.

"I call that my knee-to-jerk reaction!" she said, doubling her pace as she heard the raptors take off after her.

Fortunately, Braelyn wasn't as far away from the village as she thought; a couple of druids fighting near the merchants' caravan, rooted them to the spot.

"Thank you, thank you!" Braelyn cried as she jumped the fence and whistled for Bitey. It was time to send these raiders home.

* * *

Braelyn had been afraid that if her parents ever found out about what happened between her and Rommath then they'd disown her.

This wasn't the case.

When Ellysan received a reply from Aethas Sunreaver, she had to reread it many times before she could accept what the Archmage had to say. The Grand Magister and her daughter? It was impossible! Both she and Jasper felt that there had to be some sort of mistake.

But Aethas would never lie, not to her. If he said Braelyn had fallen in love with Rommath, then it was the truth, and they had to accept it. No matter how much the idea scared them.

And it _did_ scare them.

"If anyone finds out about this..." Jasper said, rubbing the bridge of his nose.

"She'll be mocked as a naïve fool at best," Ellysan replied, "accused of being a traitor at worst."

"I won't let them hang my baby girl!" Jasper said hotly. His wife laid a hand on her arm.

"It won't come to that. We need to speak to her; if we can convince her to accept the King's offer, and to work hard, then her loyalty may ward off any of the more outlandish accusations."

"She'll never go for that, love," he said. "You know how stubborn she is about not joining the Alliance."

"We have to try, Jasper! We have to do something."

"Where is she now?" Jasper asked.

"At the Lion's Pride with her friends."

"Then lets go speak to her there. She'll be more reasonable if there's an audience, and she'll listen to her friends. Andorien, at least, will see the wisdom of what we say."

As they walked into Goldshire proper, Ellysan and Jasper noticed that the town was in an uproar. They grabbed a passing Stormwind guard, who informed them of the raid. Inquiring after their daughter, they heard that Braelyn was guarding the few Horde raiders they'd managed to capture.

The prisoners were being held in large cage next to the blacksmith, awaiting transportation to the Stockades. Their mounts were nearby. Braelyn was the only one on guard duty, and it looked like she was attempting to tame a large raptor that was inside the cage.

Ellysan looked at her husband in concern. "Didn't Braelyn say that if a hunter tried to tame the pet of another hunter, the beast would become enraged and go crazy?"

"Yes, she did," Jasper replied. He was eyeing his daughter with confusion, she was really concentrating on the beast, despite the jeers and angry muttering of the Horde.

"Then why is she..."

Ellysan's words were cut short as the raptor let out an ear-piercing shriek and launched itself at the cage door. It head butted the cage, then kicked it, before completely losing its cool. It rammed the door, again and again, until the door gave way in a screech of twisting metal.

Braelyn had to disengage quickly to avoid the raptor's talons, and the rush of Horde prisoners as they ran for their mounts. A guard managed to take down the raptor, but the raiders all managed to get away.

"I'm sorry!" Braelyn declared. "I'm sorry! I thought with its owner being dead*, it would accept me!"

"It's all right, Braelyn," Marshall Dughan, Goldshire's leader said calmly. "It was an honest mistake, if a rather costly one."

But Ellysan and Jasper knew the truth. They'd seen the look on their daughter's face when the prisoners made their escape. It wasn't anger, or fear, or even embarrassment that she'd made such a terrible mistake.

It was relief.

* * *

As soon as Braelyn turned around and saw the way her parents were staring at her, she knew she was busted. Her father looked so disappointed in her, and her mother was clenching her jaw so hard she could hear the older woman's teeth grinding from where she stood.

Her mother raised her hand and crooked her finger at Braelyn, then stalked off in the direction of their house. Braelyn contemplated just running away, but Violet was still at home, and she could never abandon her pet. With a sigh, she followed after her parents, joining up with Odariah and Andorien who had also seen everything.

"Do you realise what you've done?" Andorien asked with concern.

"Yes," Braelyn said, checking to make sure they weren't being tailed. "I saved those raiders' lives. They'll go home knowing that not all humans want their heads on pikes. Maybe they'll return the favour one day."

"Or maybe they'll go home and laugh about the stupid hunter," Odariah hissed. "Or maybe the next time they hit Warsong Gulch or Alterac Valley they'll taunt all the Alliance there about the gullible human in Goldshire who set them free."

"I... didn't think about that," Braelyn confessed.

"Obviously."

The rest of the walk home was done in tense silence, Braelyn lost in thoughts about how she could explain all this to her parents.

* * *

Ellysan and Jasper asked their niece and her boyfriend to leave them alone with Braelyn as soon as the trio crossed the threshold. They complied, Andorien sparing Braelyn a sympathetic glance on the way out.

"What were you thinking?" Ellysan demanded as soon as they were gone.

"I was thinking how tired I was of all this bullshit," Braelyn replied. "This endless cycle of..."

"Oh, not this nonsense again!" the mage exclaimed, throwing her hands in the air in frustration.

"It's not nonsense!" Braelyn shouted.

"They were going to kill people, Braelyn!" Jasper declared. "Women, children, our elders!"

"Don't we do the same?" his daughter retorted. The paladin sighed.

"It's not the same, child."

"It's exactly the same!" Braelyn hissed. "And you know it!"

"Is this Rommath's doing?" Ellysan demanded roughly. "Did you do this because of him?" She would have made more accusations if she hadn't caught sight of her daughter's face.

Braelyn looked as if she'd had the air stolen from her lungs. Her face twisted in pain, eyes welling with tears. Her hands pressed against her chest, as if she was trying to put her heart back together.

"No, he never would have asked me to do something like this," Braelyn whispered. "If he ever hears about it, he'll be furious, knowing the danger it puts me in." She looked at her mother. "He told me to come home because he feared the Alliance would hunt me down and execute me for treason if I stayed with him." She shook her head angrily.

"I assume you've spoken with Aethas?"

"Yes," Ellysan said with a nod, tone softening. "I didn't want to pry, Sweetie, but I could tell you were grieving about something. You wouldn't have told me, and Odariah and Andorien refused to. I feared you'd been raped or something."

Braelyn's head snapped up and her eyes blazed with anger. "Not rape," she declared. "Never that." She looked from her father to her mother. "Do you hate me?"

"Of course we don't hate you!" Ellysan said. "Angry about your actions tonight, maybe, but you're our daughter. We couldn't hate you if we tried. And considering my past with Aethas, I'd be a bit of hypocrite to condemn you for giving your heart to a blood elf, even if your choice is rather... interesting."

Jasper knelt by his daughter's side, wrapping an arm about her shoulders. "Braelyn, now more than ever, you need to join the Alliance, if only to try to protect yourself."

"No, Papa, I can't do that!"

"Would it really be so bad?" Ellysan asked. "Your father and I enjoyed it."

"I don't see the world like you two do, Mum," Braelyn replied. "I don't see everything as black and white, right and wrong. I see so much grey, and so many beautiful colours.

"Please, don't ask me to betray myself."

"Braelyn," Jasper said in tortured tone, "I know what you did today, you did with noble intentions, but if the wrong people find out about it... And if they also find out about you having an affair with the Grand Magister of Silvermoon, they'll have you up on charges of treason."

"Our reputations won't save you," Ellysan continued. "Joining the Alliance is the only thing I can think of to try to save you, and it's not guaranteed to work."

"Please, pumpkin, for our sakes."

"I can't," Braelyn sobbed. "I can't be his enemy. Please don't make me!"

"We have to do something, child," Ellysan pushed.

"I'll think of something," Braelyn said. "I promise, just give me a few days."

Jasper and Ellysan exchanged a brief look of concern. They nodded. "All right," Ellysan said. "But don't take too long, the sooner we get you some protection, the better."

Braelyn sighed in gratitude, before burying herself in her father's embrace.

* * *

Braelyn rose at dawn the next morning, eager to get out in the forest and escape her parents' worry. She also thought it best to spend some time away from Odariah, who tended to hold on to her anger, which was surprising given that the woman was a priest.

She decided to head over to the Stonefield farm to visit her childhood friend Tommy, and see if he needed any help, or just someone to talk to. On Braelyn's return to Goldshire, he had confided in her about his love for Mable MacClure, the daughter of his father's most hated enemy.

Given her own situation, Braelyn was sympathetic, but also amused. _They think they've got it bad,_ she thought with a wry chuckle.

"Good morning, Braelyn," Ma Stonefield said when Braelyn knocked on her door. "I'm afraid you just missed Tommy."

"Oh, that's a shame," Braelyn replied. "I was hoping we could go hunting together. He said he had a new gun he wanted me to check out." She grimaced. She'd never liked guns, they were too noisy for her tastes.

"Yes, he loves that thing!" Mas replied, shoving a piece of toast into Braelyn's hand. "But if you're looking to do some hunting today, would you mind doing me a favour?"

"Of course."

"Good, good. Those Brackwells have this enormous pig named Princess who keeps getting into my vegetables. I've asked them several times to make sure she stays on their farm, but they refuse to do anything. Would you mind dealing with it? The season's been bad enough as it is, we can't afford to lose what little we _have_ managed to grow to that damn pig!"

"I'll go take care of it now, Ma," Braelyn promised, heading out the door.

"Thank's, Braelyn," the old woman said. "You're such a good girl; you'd make a fine wife for my Tommy."

Fighting hard not to blush, laugh, or cry, Braelyn said thank you before walking away as quickly as she could. _Poor Ma, _she thought, _that is just not going to happen._

Princess turned out to be the biggest pig Braelyn had ever seen. It was huge, reaching up to Braelyn's breasts, at least. There was no way she was going to kill such a magnificent creature unless it started killing people... but, she also didn't want the Stonefields being reduced to poverty.

"Hey, Bitey," she said, patting her lynx on the head. He answered with a happy growl. "I'm going to try and tame this pig, so I need you to stand back, okay? Don't attack her unless she tries to gore me."

Bitey let out an angry, huffing sound, and stalked off sit next to a tree, as Braelyn began the taming process.

It was a long, drawn out affair; Princess being as stubborn as she was big. In the end, Braelyn's will won out, without her receiving more than a scratch along one arm.

"Princess is a stupid name for a pig," Braelyn told her new pet. "How about a new one?" The pig made a happy snort, before head butting Bitey. "Okay, now, don't take this the wrong way, but you're kind of ugly, so how about I call you Denaria?"

The pig looked at her for a moment, before making an odd snuffling, snorting sound that Braelyn interpreted as an 'I guess so'.

"Excellent! Let's head into town and get you a nice collar."

* * *

While they were in town, Braelyn stopped to chat with Remy Two-Times. The merchant had a beautifully made gun holster in stock that she decided to purchase and send to King Greymane as a thank-you present. She was sure that she could make one just as lovely, but she didn't think she had the time to craft it considering her parents were so hell-bent on sending her off to fight somewhere again.

A group of adventurers were hanging around the inn, so Braelyn hired one of them to take the holster up to the King. She threw in some extra coin, telling him to make sure to put the gift directly into Genn Greymane's hand himself. She smirked as she thought about how annoyed that stupid advisor was going to be.

She hired another adventure to run some gold over to the Brackwells; compensation for stealing their pig. The Brackwells were a little... unhinged, and Braelyn didn't want to cause any trouble.

After her business was concluded, she decided to step inside the inn for a drink. The barkeeper offered her a shot of rum, which she quickly refused, fighting a sudden bout of nausea. She settled for a nice bottle of Stormwind Stout, settling into one of the chairs by the fire.

She heard a man sigh sadly as he sat down on her right. She was surprised to see her father's friend, Anders, sitting there looking depressed.

"Are you all right, Anders?" Braelyn asked with concern. The crusader turned and gave her a small smile.

"Well enough, lass," he replied. "I thought I'd come see how you and your family are faring, now that my work in Stormwind is done."

"Did things go badly?"

"Yes," Anders sighed. "Crusader numbers are dropping and we need to bolster our ranks. Yet now that Arthas is dead, everybody seems to think that the war with the Scourge is over and everything is safe, so there's no need to sign up. In fact, a lot of people are saying that the Argent Crusade should disband and join the Alliance."

"But the Crusade is not just made up of Alliance races!" Braelyn protested.

"I know, lass. We are a big family representing the best Azeroth has to offer. As if we could just ignore all that and start fighting each other." Anders sighed again as he took a long swig of his ale. "And the truth is, there are still Scourge out there that need killing, and land that still needs healing."

He turned and looked directly at Braelyn. "You know, you'd make an excellent recruit, Braelyn," he said. "I've long known about your skill as a hunter, but your recent experiences in Darkshore and Quel'Thalas prove you are also brave and tenacious, with great fortitude."

Braelyn was about to refute what Anders was saying, but paused, thinking furiously. Joining the Crusade might be the solution to all her problems. As a Crusader, it would be difficult for the Alliance to arrest her, as she would be under the protection of an independent organisation, and residing in a land that was essentially a separate country.

More importantly, she'd have the opportunity to put her beliefs into action. That epiphany she'd had in Silvermoon about working to combat racism, to overcome prejudice... she'd finally be able to honour it. It's true that crusaders from Alliance races weren't always welcomed with open arms in Horde cities, but they were still respected. As were Horde crusaders by the Alliance.

She bit her lip. Could she really do this?

_Yes. I can._

"Well then, Anders," she said, smiling at the crusader, "how do I sign up?"

* * *

*as far as she knows, Tal'lin is dead. Whether or not he actually is dead...

**AN**- I kind of feel like this shouldn't be much of a surprise. The Crusade is a pretty easy out for things involving cross-faction problem solving. Special thanks to Bohmz for her last review, it made me realise I was handling the raid all wrong.

I always enjoyed doing the MacClure/Stonefield quests. It makes me a bit sad now that it's so easy to level, you end up missing some great things/areas. Back in the day you pretty much had to go everywhere to level up - Desolace, Felwood, Feralas, Silithus, WInterspring. And forget about Eastern Plaguelands until you were lvl 50+.

Next Chapter: Braelyn bids farewell to Goldshire to begin her new life in Eastern Plaguelands. Just when she thinks she's moving on from Rommath, she receives word about what's about to go down in Orgrimmar.


	18. Braelyn to the rescue

"Are you sure you want to do this, Braelyn?"

"Yes, Mum, I'm sure," Braelyn replied as her mother hugged her goodbye. "I know it's not what you and Dad want, but it's what I _need _to do."

Her father kissed her on the forehead. "All we ever wanted was for you to be happy," he said gruffly. "I'm sorry that we ever made you feel otherwise."

"We are so proud of you, dear," Ellysan added. "Alliance, Argent Crusade, Defias Brotherhood, whatever." She smiled as Braelyn rolled her eyes.

Braelyn looked at Andorien, who was trying to comfort his upset girlfriend. "Odariah," she sighed. "Look, I know you want to come with me, but I need to do this on my own."

Her cousin nodded her head, but didn't look at Braelyn. She shuffled forward and hugged the hunter. "I know," she whispered, "it's just the last time we said goodbye, you were gone for months, and we all thought you were dead for a while. I'm worried for you."

Braelyn hugged Odariah tightly with one arm, drawing Andorien into the embrace with the other. "I need to do this by myself," she said. "I need space to grow strong, and to try to get over him."

"You were always strong," Andorien replied. "You were the strongest of us all. Even Bitsie thought so."

They were silent for a while, lost in thoughts of their dear friend. Eventually Braelyn let go and stepped back. She gave them an affectionate smile. "I'm not saying you can't ever join the Crusade... just give it a few months, okay? Make sure you want to do it for the right reasons, not just out of fear for me. You guys are building a life together; that's more important than holding my hand."

"We will do that, but, please, if you need us, Braelyn, don't hesitate to write to us," Andorien said, kissing her cheek. Braelyn giggled as she thought of how that gesture would have made her blush like mad a year ago.

"It's time to go, Braelyn," Anders said, shooting her an apologetic look. She nodded and mounted her gryphon. It was going to be one long, gods-awful ride.

Her mother stepped forward, and Braelyn reached down to give her a hug. "It will be all right, Mum," she said.

"I should be saying that to you," her mother said, and with shock, Braelyn realised the older woman was crying. "It will get easier, darling," she added. "I know it doesn't seem like it now, but the wound will close over, and soon the memories won't hurt so badly... especially if you keep yourself open to new possibilities."

Braelyn didn't know what to say for a second, but then gave her mother a tight squeeze. "I'll try, Mum," she said. "I promise. And please let Aethas know I'm not upset that he told you."

"Will do."

Braelyn gave her family one last, loving look, then urged her mount to take flight. She gave them a bright smile and cheerful wave, even as nausea began to build in her stomach. All too quickly their voices and faces faded away, forcing Braelyn to look at the horizon.

_To the Plaguelands, and my new beginning._

* * *

Hearthglen was a testament to the hard work and dedication of the Argent Crusade. It was a pretty town, with all the amenities Goldshire had to offer, with the added benefit of secure walls.

And some of the most badass defenders in existence.

Braelyn couldn't help but stare as she and Anders landed. It was so pretty, with its cobbled streets and grey stone buildings. Not as beautiful as Silvermoon; but then again, Silvermoon had an attraction that Hearthglen could never have.

Her mouth lifted in a smile as she saw gnomes talking to goblins and orcs, while night elves, trolls, and sin'dorei trained together. It was like paradise to Braelyn. A visual representation of all her hopes and dreams.

"Since it's so late in the day, I'll take you to the recruits' quarters, and then you can familiarise yourself with the town," Anders said. "Tomorrow, I'll take you to meet Lord Fordring, and then get you started on your training. You'll have a bit of a head start on the other trainees."

"Sounds like a plan," Braelyn replied. "And thanks, Anders... for giving me this opportunity."

"It's all right, dear," Anders said, as he showed her the way to Mardenholde Keep. "I'm glad to have you here."

The recruits quarters were small and cramped, which would take some getting used to. Braelyn was more familiar with camping outdoors or living in large houses... like Rommaths'.

Mentally chastising herself for thinking of him, Braelyn concentrated on introducing herself to a couple of her new roommates. One was a Forsaken warrior, while the other was a troll rogue. Both female, so it looked as if she was going to find out whether troll ladies were as awesome as her drunken self thought.

After the introductions, Braelyn decided to take a walk outside. She wanted to find a quiet spot to sit down and write a letter to Lorelai. She knew the priest must have been worried and/or enraged by the circumstances of her departure from Silvermoon, and Braelyn wanted to allay those concerns.

She also thought it a good way to let Rommath know what she was up to... just in case he decided to stop acting like an idiot. She was tempted to write to him directly, but didn't think he would read a letter from her.

_To: Lorelai Sunblessed, Silvermoon City, Quel'Thalas_

_From: Braelyn Hawke, Hearthglen, Eastern Plaguelands_

_Dear Lorelai,_

_I am so sorry I didn't stop to say goodbye before I left Silvermoon, but, as you can probably imagine, I was in no fit state to think rationally. I hope you can understand. Please extend my apologies to Boxer when you next see him, and tell him I will write to him when things have settled down some._

_As you can tell from the return address, I am now in the Eastern Plaguelands. I joined the Argent Crusade yesterday, and am now in Hearthglen for training. It is a pretty place, and I am sure I can be happy here. I am looking forward to befriending some orcs!_

_Although, I just realised that I am now dangerously close to Acherus. By the Light, I hope I don't run into Lethallan; gods know how I will react. I am still so furious about how he murdered Bitsie, and treated me, but, at the same time, without him I would never have met you or Boxer... or Rommath._

_My parents found out about me and him. They were surprisingly supportive, although I could tell they were a little concerned. Talked about me getting hung for treason a lot, which means they have a lot more in common with Rommath than they think. I think the only reason they didn't flip their shit completely was because we aren't together anymore. Both my parents think he did the right thing when he sent me away, though my dad is pretty upset Rommath hurt me so badly in the process._

_But, seriously, is there a good way to break somebody's heart?_

_Light... I promised my mother I would try to forget him and move on, but I don't think I can do it._

_If you can, please let it be known to certain parties where I am and what I am doing. And ask Halduron if he wants me to pay him back. I have a steady income now._

_I miss you and Boxer a lot, and wish I could introduce you to Andorien and Odariah. My cousin could teach you some shadow magic to use on a certain warlock._

_Please write to me as soon as you can, and let me know all the gossip._

_Love,_

_Braelyn._

_..._

**SIX MONTHS LATER**

Brealyn sighed in relief as she spotted Lethallan Dawnbreaker portal out of Hearthglen. The death knight had become a regular visitor to the town when he'd found out about her presence there. It had been hard at first, but then Lord Fordring had discovered what was happening and had insisted that Darion Mograine put an end to the harassment.

From then on, when Lethallan came to town, he had to be accompanied by a Knight of the Ebon Blade, or an Alliance affiliated death knight. Usually it was a human knight named Thassarian, who Braelyn actually liked. He was one of the few death knights who had managed to keep some genuine warmth.

Of course, Thassarian could do little to prevent midnight hug-attacks by ghoul, so Braelyn had caused a few panics with her startled screeching at Mangle's sudden appearances. She had just started getting used to_ his_ antics, when he somehow manged to convince Thassarian's ghoul, Lurid, to join in on the fun.

The relief was quickly replaced with anticipation as she waited for her family to arrive. Even though she'd only been gone six months, her parents insisted that they come to visit for a belated 24th birthday get-together, and they were bringing Andorien and Odariah with them. Andorien had decided to make his home in Goldshire with her cousin, and was working as a druid trainer and healer. Odariah took the short journey to Northshire every other day to help out at the abbey.

"Mum! Dad!" she called as her family came into view. She ran forward and hugged them all as soon as they dismounted. "It's good to see you!"

"And you!" Odariah laughed, returning the hug with enthusiasm. "You're looking good, Braelyn."

"I'm feeling much better," Braelyn confessed. "Coming here was just what I needed, although I'd be lying if I said it's been easy."

Her eyes clouded over. It was true that she was doing well. On the surface. She had made many friends, and her skill as a hunter had grown immensely. She'd even gotten around to making the change to mail armor.

Severen had been right, mail armor was so much better than leather.

Then there was the blacksmith, Morris Vant. The day after meeting her, he'd made it clear to Braelyn that he wanted to court her. She was flattered, but was trying hard not to lead him on. The reason being that despite what her mother had told her, time had not made her separation from Rommath easier to bear.

It made things worse.

She still loved him, and being apart from the mage was a pain unlike any other she'd ever felt. She dreamt about him, thought about him often, and in the few life-and-death encounters she'd had as a Crusader, her mind always went to him, and she regretted not being able to see him one last time.

"But it hasn't helped with him, has it?" Andorien asked. Braelyn shook her head.

"I'm trying, but..." she trailed off, and shrugged, allowing her father to kiss her forehead.

"We can talk about that later, pumpkin," he said, "but right now, your mother and I should pay our respects to Tyrion." He took his wife's arm. "Why don't you and your friends catch up on all the gossip?"

While Ellysan and Jasper headed to the Keep, Braelyn guided her friends to the inn for a drink, and a much-needed conversation. They'd just ordered when her worgen friend, Fiona, appeared with a letter for her.

"Do you mind if I read this now?" she asked Andorien and her cousin, excited when she recognised Boxer's messy handwriting.

"Go for it," Odariah said waving her hand. "I need to recover from that flight, it was terrible!"

Braelyn chuckled as she opened the letter and began to read.

_Heya, toots!_

_I don't want to freak ya out or nothin', but some pretty serious business is going to go down in Orgrimmar that you might want to know about. Though, it may be too late by the time you get this, it's hard gettin' mail to ya, even when you're with the Crusaders._

_You've probably heard 'bout how crazy Hellscream is these days, right? Well, Vol'jin's decided enough's enough... he's decided ta get rid of that orc, and the Alliance, so I've heard, is plannin' on crashing the party, too._

_The reason I'm tellin' ya this, B, is because Lor'themar Theron is gonna be leadin' the blood elves' attack on the docks and then move on up ta the gates. I know Aethas Sunreaver's gonna be there, but I'm thinkin' Rommath's gonna go as well._

_It's gonna be ugly, toots, real ugly. Nobody's got any real idea of what Hellscream's got stashed away in Orgrimmar, and there's no denyin' he's gone completely insane. All we know is the orc's gotta die._

_I'm thinkin' that maybe Rommath will need to see ya there, to remind him what he's got ta live for. He's been forgettin' lately. Pinin' so bad even Halduron's stopped givin' him a hard time._

_I think you're needin' to see him, too. Lorelai tells me ya be putin' on a brave face, but that you're pining for him, too._

_Get ta Orgrimmar, toots. Give him ya strength, fight for ya future._

_Catch ya on the flip side, B._

_Boxer._

* * *

When Ellysan and Jasper walked into the inn, they expected to see their daughter and her friends laughing and joking over some drinks and a good meal. What they found, however, was Braelyn in a state of distress as she waved a letter around and argued with her cousin about the quickest way to Orgrimmar.

"What is going on?" Ellysan demanded.

Braelyn's eyes snapped up to her mother's face. "Mum, what's the quickest way to Orgrimmar?"

"Why do you want to know?" the mage asked, eyes narrowed. She did not want her daughter anywhere near that city, not with the Alliance and Vol'jin's revolutionaries about to kick the gate in.

"I have to get there right now!" her daughter replied, before dashing outside. Braelyn whistled for her pets, then started running for the keep to fetch her weapons, and supplies for her friends.

"What the hell is going on?" Jasper asked Odariah.

"She just found out that Rommath is going to be fighting at Orgrimmar," Odariah said.

"And, what, she's going to go there and save him, is that it?" Ellysan asked in exasperation.

"Pretty much," the priest replied. "We're going with her of course."

"Really?"

"Yeah, she'll need us. You too, if it's as bad as they're saying."

"She can't!" Jasper said. "We're meant to be keeping this quiet!"

"Jasper," Andorien said in his calm, melodic voice, "she needs to go. If she doesn't, and Rommath dies, she will _never_ forgive herself, and never get over it. She needs to go to him, needs to _be _with him."

"You... you... support Braelyn in this?" Ellysan asked in shock.

"Yeah," Odariah replied, rubbing the back of her head sheepishly. "Look, we know it's not ideal, but Braelyn's putting up a front, Aunt Ellysan. She's dying on the inside. If being with him makes her happy, then I say we do what we can to get them back together, even if it gets us all accused of treason. I won't let stupid politics ruin my cousin's happiness. And neither should you."

Ellysan almost wilted under the pressure of her niece's glare. She looked to her husband, who wasn't faring all that well, either. She coughed. "I see... ," she began. "I want my daughter to be happy, but this could all go so badly, and I want her safe."

Jasper sighed, and placed his hand on his wife's shoulder. "I feel the same, dear," he said. "But Braelyn's a grown woman now, capable of making her own decisions, her own choices. She's going to go, with or without us. I'd rather we went with her, then we can at least try to protect her, and perhaps even mitigate some of the fallout."

The paladin ran a hand through his grey hair. "Besides, I'd very much like to meet this Grand Magister Rommath. He and I have a lot to talk about."

"Perhaps you're right," Ellysan admitted, though her voice was still full of doubt.

"Are you guys ready to go?" Braelyn demanded as she met her family outside the inn. She handed Andorien and Odariah some bags filled with potions and enchanted scrolls.

"_We _are ready," Ellysan said pointedly. Braelyn gaped at her.

"Mum?" she questioned,

"If you think we're going to let you do this on your own, you are very much mistaken," the mage said. "Besides, the fastest way to Orgrimmar is via portal." She smirked at the look on her daughter's face.

"How do you know how to create a portal to Orgrimmar?" Odariah asked in wonder.

"I don't think you need to know the answer to that, dear," was Ellysan's smug reply. "A girl's got to have some secrets."

"Well, all right, if you insist," Braelyn said, relief evident in every word. "This means the world to me."

"Oh, don't thank us yet, sweetie," Ellysan said, "your dad wants to meet this blood elf of yours."

Braelyn paused for a moment, then the meaning of what her mother said sunk in. She turned to her father in alarm. "Please wait until we're all safe before you try to mess with him, Dad!" she pleaded.

"No promises," Jasper replied, patting his sword affectionately. "I take my paternal duties seriously, and I get _very _upset when someone makes my little girl cry."

"Uh, now would be a good time for that portal, Aunty E," Odariah said, and with a laugh, the older woman began summoning the gateway to Orgrimmar. Soon, a glimmering portal appeared before them, and they could see the orange vista of the great orc city.

"Who should go first?" Andorien ask. "I could go in bear form."

"No, son, let me," Jasper said, unbuckling his shield, and hefting it up in front of him, his sword held in his other hand. He ducked into the portal, then stuck his head back through. "Come quickly! The siege has begun, and the city's in chaos!"

Brealyn was the next person to leave, and as she passed through the cold curtain of the portal, she could think only of Rommath.

_I'm coming, my love. _

* * *

**AN - **Mangle and Lurid double hug-attack go! That would be so gross. I love Thassarian, he's one of my favourite characters. Now, I know that Rommath wasn't actually at the siege in-game (that I saw anyway), but I say screw that!

Next Chapter: it's the Siege of Orgrimmar! Braelyn and Rommath will be reunited, but will she get the reaction she's hoping for? And Rommath should probably avoid Daddy Hawke. Daddy Hawke is kind of scary. So's Mummy Hawke, for that matter. Poor Rommath.


	19. Finding Rommath

When Braelyn arrived in Orgrimmar, she felt like she was about to die. Not from the fighting that raged all around her, but from the fear that paralyzed her.

Burning hair.

That's all she could smell, and it conjured up memories of Warsong Gulch that she'd been trying to bury for almost a year. For those first terrifying minutes, she couldn't actually tell whether she was in Orgrimmar or Ashenvale, as everywhere she looked, she saw both Alliance and Horde bodies lying in the dirt, limbs missing and clothes smouldering.

"Braelyn, move!" Odariah yelled, grabbing her cousin's arm and dragging her after Ellysan and Jasper, Andorien at the rear. Braelyn let out a startled gasp and, coming back to her senses, began running.

Her mother's portal brought them up to the gates of the city, and the fighting was intense. Braelyn could see Tyrande Whisperwing herself leading the Silverwing Sentinels in battle against the Kor'kron army. They were doing well; well enough that she didn't feel guilty about not stopping to help. Her priority was finding Rommath, and there were no blood elves here.

So they kept moving.

The advance parties of both the Alliance and revolutionaries had done a great job on clearing a path to the central part of Orgrimmar, the section of the city that looked like a trading hub. There were a few Kor'kron Elites left to deal with, but between the four of them, they weren't much of a challenge.

"Where should we go?" Andorien asked. Braelyn shook her head in frustration. Her parents knew a few of the King's plans, but not any of the smaller details like the location of Garrosh Hellscream and his champions.

"I think I can find out," Jasper said suddenly. He walked over to where some injured pandaren were being healed by a draenei shaman and night elf priest. He lent them his limited healing abilities, engaging the Alliance healers in conversation as he healed the wounded as best he could.

Braelyn could tell that he must be asking about the Sunreavers or Lor'themar Theron; it was the only thing that could explain the healers' looks of confusion and suspicion.

"Dad, we must hurry!" she called out, and the group surrounding her father turned their eyes on her. They looked even more confused to see an Argent Crusader standing in the middle of Orgrimmar during the middle of a siege. They spoke with Jasper once more, the conversation causing her father to tense up. He said something under his breath, and the healers looked stunned.

Braelyn started to walk over to her father, but Andorien grabbed her arm. "Do not go over there," he warned. "Your father just told them why you seek Rommath. They are not... pleased by the information."

Braelyn sighed, amazed by how sensitive Andorien's hearing was, but also disappointed by the Alliance healers' reaction to her father's words. Here they were, Alliance and Horde, working somewhat in tandem to bring down a common enemy, and a couple of soldiers were getting sidetracked by the idea that a human could love a blood elf.

It made her realise just how much work she had in front of her.

"For the Light's sake, just tell me where they went, man!" Jasper yelled, grabbing the draenei by the front of his robes. The draenei protested for a while, but when the paladin yelled at him some more, he gave in and supplied the much-needed information.

Jasper put the shaman down, then stalked over to his wife and child. "The shaman says they all headed to a place called the Cleft of Shadows. It's this way," he said, he pointing down a street littered with corpses.

Most of them Kor'kron, fortunately.

It was a slow and dirty journey. As impatient as Braelyn was to find her beloved, she could not bear to leave survivors of either faction trapped under rubble or lying injured in the street. She and her companions did their best to ease the suffering of those around them, and get them to places of relative safety.

It brought her so much happiness to see her family working so hard to save so many, Horde or Alliance, especially her parents. Her father had even exchanged weapons with a tauren paladin that he'd pulled out from under a partly collapsed building; a symbol of friendship and respect universal to all of Azeroth's races.

It was enough to wipe away the memory of those judgemental healers.

When Braelyn was old and grey, she would often laugh about how the hardest part of the siege for her was getting past the wreckage of some demolishers that had been stationed around the entrance to the Cleft of Shadows. But it was true. That _was _ the most difficult part.

There were four of them, and it must have been a nightmare for the advance parties to deal with them. There would have been no time for strategies, just a mad rush to take them out, dodging the explosives as they did so.

Unfortunately for Braelyn and her group, the demolishers now lay in smoldering ruins that blocked every path leading to where she needed to be. Worse still, the advance parties hadn't killed all the Kor'krons manning them. She could only assume that those that went before her thought their enemies had died during the fighting, and the resulting explosions.

Most of the survivors were in no position to fight, and her father insisted on showing them the ultimate mercy of a good, clean death, free of suffering. One or two were well enough to attempt to repel them, but were so weak that Bitey and Violet were able to deal with them on their own, while Braelyn and the others began trying to clear a path.

_Thank the Light for frost mages,_ Braelyn thought as she watched her mother freeze one of the burning demolishers. Now it was just a matter of either shattering large pieces of wreckage, or moving smaller ones out of the way.

They were making good progress, but Braelyn was getting antsy as the time crawled by. She knew Rommath was near by, she could feel him in her bones, and she felt a sudden rush of desperation surge through her as they cleared the final obstacle.

Braelyn was about to charge into the Cleft when her father grabbed her by the arm. "Don't just rush in there," he cautioned. "I've heard disturbing rumours about this place." She nodded her head, allowing her parents to take the lead.

The Cleft of Shadows was a horrible place. Braelyn could _feel _the shadows around her, pressing against her like an unseen force. Behind her, she heard Andorien swear under his breath, and Odariah began to pray softly.

It was so dark, that Ellysan went back outside to grab a torch, and even then the flames did little to pierce the gloom. "Be careful, move as silently as you can, and keep an ear out," the mage said in a whisper. "Gods know what's in here with us."

They moved forward cautiously, and Braelyn shuddered as her ears picked up the sounds of a battle raging not too far from their location, as well as critters slithering about nearby. Bitey let out a low, warning growl, and she stopped, calling for the others to stay still.

Braelyn lifted her arms and grabbed for her bow and an arrow. "Odariah," she whispered, "you nearby?"

"Yeah."

"Grab a flare, and throw it near my mother. Aim for the torch," Braelyn instructed, holding her breath as she felt her cousin detach the flare from her belt. There was a loud crack, followed by a sharp hissing sound as it was activated and then thrown forwards.

The flare hit the ground, illuminating her mother's surprised face. The mage went to question her daughter, but Braelyn cut her off.

"Mum, duck!" she yelled, and as her mother hit the ground, rolling awkwardly to one side, Braelyn's arrow buried itself in the neck of a Kor'kron assassin. The male orc grabbed at his throat, blood pouring from the wound, and made a gurgling sound as he toppled over. He was dead before his body hit the ground.

"Ellysan!" Jasper cried, moving to his wife's side. "Are you all right?"

"I'm fine," Ellysan replied. "Brae..."

"Everyone inside the flare's radius, now!" Braelyn ordered, running to her mother's side. She dropped another two flares on the ground; one slightly ahead of them, the second an equal distance behind them. "Bitey, find them."

The lynx went into his prowl mode, slinking off into the shadows to sniff out any more rogues.

"Thank Elune for flares," Andorien said, arm about Odariah's waist.

"I'll say!" the priest replied.

Behind them they heard a loud growl followed by a scream, and then the sound of something being dragged along the ground unwillingly. Bitey soon appeared, pulling a second Kor'kron assassin behind him by an arm. The orc was snarling and attempting to free herself from the lynx's grip.

"Good boy, Bitey!" Braelyn cried, wincing as her father finished the orc off with a blow to the throat. "Any more out there?" She watched as her pet disappeared again, Denaria trotting off after him this time. The pig let out a disappointed squeal, which Brealyn recognised as a porcine all-clear signal.

"It's clear," she told her companions, smiling in relief. Her mother squeezed her shoulder, whispering her thanks. "It's okay, Mum."

They proceeded through the dark tunnel, their eyes searching for any sign of the enemy, Rommath, or the way through to the battle. They soon found themselves standing on a ledge that acted as a ramp down to the furthest depths of the Cleft of Shadows. A part of the rock jutted out, forming a kind of platform, and a few burning braziers provided some much-needed illumination.

There were several bodies scattered about the ground, most of them looked like orc warlocks, and perhaps a dark shaman or two. In the centre of the platform lay a monstrous form; it looked like some kind of demon.

_Did they summon that thing? _Braelyn thought with horror.

Behind her, her mother gave a strangled cry of terror, and she spun around to find the mage leaning on a mailbox, her hand clasped firmly over her mouth. Her eyes had widened in fear.

Following her mother's gaze, Braelyn felt herself tense up as she spotted the body of a young woman lying on the ground. "Dear gods!" she gasped.

"Holy shit, Braelyn!" Odariah exclaimed. "She looks just like you!"

It was true; the woman _did _ look a lot like Braelyn, with light brown hair, and blue eyes. She was even a hunter; her pet wolf was lying dead beside her, and a wicked looking crossbow was still clutched in her hands. The only differences Braelyn could see were that the other woman's hair was slightly darker, and she was taller and thinner. Her eyes, open in the never-ending stare of death, were also lighter, and more almond-shaped.

It was unnerving to say the least.

"It looks like this man fell trying to protect her," Odariah said, pointing to the prone form lying near by, a mage from the type of armour he was wearing.

Braelyn felt the skin on the back of her neck begin to tingle as she looked at the man.

"That's a blood elf!" Andorien muttered in surprise, and a feeling of dread pierced Braelyn's heart. She took a few steps closer to the body.

It was indeed a blood elf. Her breath quickened as she saw the long, blue-black hair pulled up in a ponytail. Her eyes welled with tears as she took in the red and gold robes, and the all-too-familiar staff.

"Braelyn?" her father asked, reaching for her, but she avoided him, stepping to the side.

"Rommath!" she cried, and threw herself on the ground by the blood elf's side. "Andorien, help me!" she begged, trying to roll Rommath over.

The Druid complied, helping Braelyn ease Rommath over on his back. She started crying when she saw her lover's face, bruised and covered with blood that seeped from a nasty head wound. There was a Kor'kron dagger still lodged in his chest, perilously close to his heart.

"Rommath, please open your eyes," Braelyn pleaded, running her hand over his cheek. "Come back to me." When nothing happened, she shook his body, and lowered her head to kiss his blue-tinged lips. "It isn't supposed to end like this," she cried.

A ragged, tortured breath.

Braelyn gasped as Rommath's lips parted to suck in air. His breathing was shallow and slow, but he was still alive. She cried out in relief as she saw his eyelids fluttering. "Adorien?" she said.

"I can heal some of his wounds, but we will need to get him someplace safe as soon as possible," the night elf said, preparing to remove the dagger from Rommath's chest. "He stands on the very edge of death."

When the dagger was pulled out, Rommath gave an agonised moan. For a moment his eyes shot open, and Braelyn was horrified to see how dim they were. They were nothing like the way she remembered them, blazing brighter than any star.

As Andorien, her father, and Odariah set to work healing Rommath, Braelyn turned to mother. "Mum," she said desperately, "can you open a portal back to Hearthglen? We can take him there to finish healing."

"I guess... yes, dear, I'll do that," Ellysan replied, and immediately began the summoning ritual. "You'll have a lot of explaining to do when we get back, though."

"I don't care," Braelyn replied, caressing Rommath's brow. "All that matters now is getting him to safety."

"All right," Andorien said, "he's safe to move. Jasper, you grab his legs."

As the two men carefully lifted Rommath off the ground, Odariah collecting his staff, the portal to Hearthglen popped into existence. Odariah and Ellysan went through first, Braelyn walking along side Rommath, holding his hand.

"Hold on, my love," she whispered. "Hold on."

* * *

Rommath never expected to wake up. To be honest, he wasn't sure he'd wanted to. There was no point; not when waking up meant returning to a life he'd stopped living over six months ago.

He'd tried so hard to save that hunter, the one he'd thought was Braelyn. Confused the daylights out of the woman in the process, too. In the end, though, he'd failed. Just as he'd failed to do the right thing by Braelyn.

When he'd seen the hunter fall, his own defences crumpled. He was angry, and got careless, and ended up being stabbed by a rogue. A rogue... the humiliation. He'd decided to let go then, not even trying to reach for the health potions stashed in his robes.

When he felt himself start to go cold, he smiled, looking forward to the chance to watch over Braelyn from the afterlife. He was genuinely ready to die.

But then he heard her voice, and felt her soft lips on his once more, and his body reacted automatically. He'd desperately sought the oxygen needed to keep him breathing, opened his mouth to call for her.

The pain was too great, and he once again lost consciousness. But he knew she was there, and so he held on.

When he woke up, he expected to feel pain once the initial fogginess wore off, but he didn't. Instead, he felt the same sense of serenity he'd experienced the night he'd spent with Braelyn.

The night he realised he loved her more than he had ever hated her race.

He felt something light tickling his nose, and he gingerly moved his head to look down at the warm weight pressed against his side. He could only stare in wonder as he saw Braelyn, the real Braelyn, curled up against him, her hand resting over his heart, and her head on his shoulder. Her hair was slightly obscuring his face.

Rommath didn't believe she was real, not until she stirred slightly, mumbling something in her sleep. The sound of her voice, quiet as it was, was enough to convince him that she was truly with him, and that he was alive, and not trapped in some weird death throes fantasy.

He laughed softly, and raised his arm to touch her hair.

"You wake her up, and I'll kill you," a male voice growled suddenly. "This is her first real sleep in seven days."

Rommath's arm froze, and he directed his gaze towards the voice. His eyes widened as he saw an Alliance paladin leaning against the wall, sword in hand. He was human, and an older man by their standards, though far from elderly and infirm. He had a thick head of greying hair and a neatly trimmed beard.

Rommath needed no introduction to discover who this man was; it was Braelyn's father. The way the man stood reminded him of Braelyn when she was preparing for a fight.

"You're her father?" he asked, simply to break the ice. The man nodded.

"Jasper Hawke," the human replied. "And you're the one who broke my daughter's heart."

Rommath winced, not wanting to discuss this so soon. He wanted only to be with Braelyn.

"I did what I thought was best," he ground out, trying to maintain a sense of calm. "I thought I was keeping her safe. Do you disapprove of my actions?"

Jasper eyed him, his eyes narrowed in concentration. "At first I didn't," he replied, "but then I saw how distraught she was when she thought you were dead, and fully realised how much she'd been suffering during the past six months."

The paladin began pacing around the room. "My daughter loves you with an intensity I never thought possible for someone her age. She will only ever be happy with you," he said, "but you pushed her away. Trust me, if I didn't know that it would destroy her, I would tear her away from you right now and put my sword through your heart."

Rommath's arms tightened around Braelyn automatically, and he growled at the other man. But Jasper surprised him by sheathing his sword. The paladin's lips curled up in a cold smile. "I can't say that my wife and I are too happy about all this," he said. "There is so much that can go wrong."

"I already know what can go wrong!" Rommath snapped. "That was all that I ever seemed to think about! But I won't let her go again, not if being apart causes her as much grief as it causes me." He stopped, his outburst draining his energy. He took a deep breath. "And as to what you and your wife think... I don't care. I will keep her safe, I will make her happy. As long as Braelyn's with me, I couldn't care less about your disapproval. Just as long as you don't force her to choose. I won't let you upset her."

"Are you threatening me, boy?" Jasper growled, ignoring the fact that Rommath was a hell of a lot older than him.

"Yes," the mage replied. "I won't be this weak forever." To his surprise, the human man laughed.

"I'm glad to see that you're prepared to fight for her now," Jasper said. "I may have my doubts about this relationship, but I'm willing to put them aside since you've decided to make her happy."

The paladin walked to the door. Before he stepped out, he paused, looking back at Rommath. "When she wakes up, the first thing you're going to do is beg for her forgiveness," Jasper said. "Then you going are to promise to never hurt her again. And, Grand Magister Rommath, know this; if you break that promise, you _will_ pay dearly, and it will not just be my rage that you need to worry about."

* * *

"Rommath, stop that right now!" Braelyn commanded as the blood elf apologised again, placing a soft kiss beside her ear.

"I'm only doing what your father told me to do," Rommath replied.

"I know, but you've said 'sorry' about thirteen hundred times now," she protested, "and in the creepiest, pleading voice I have ever heard. It's not natural. You're supposed to be stern, or angry. Keep doing it and I'll begin to think you aren't really Rommath at all, but some weird, Rommath-shaped succubus or something."

"Then say you forgive me," Rommath whispered in her ear.

"You know I do," she said, shivering as he kissed her again. She was fighting not to blush, not just because of Rommath's actions, but also because Andorien and Odariah were both watching.

"I need to hear you say it," Rommath growled.

"For the Light's sake, cousin, put the poor man out of his misery!" Odariah exclaimed, giving up her attempt to mind her own business. Andorien groaned and shook his head.

"Your cousin is a most compassionate woman," Rommath said, smiling against Braelyn's throat.

Braelyn pulled back, and took the mage's face between her hands. She looked him in the eyes and said, "I forgive you, Rommath. Don't ever doubt that." She kissed him softly.

When she raised her head, Rommath was smiling at her, his relief clear in his eyes. "You better memorize this, guys," Braelyn told her friends. "You'll probably never see him smile again."

Rommath laughed at that, and pulled Braelyn to rest against him. "Enough of your teasing, wench," he said. "Why don't you tell me what happened in Orgrimmar?"

Between the three of them, Braelyn and her friends managed to cover everything that had happened while he was unconscious. Hellscream's defeat, Vol'jin becoming Warchief, the tentative truce between Horde and Alliance. They also reassured him that Lor'themar and the others had made it safely back to Silvermoon, and knew about Rommath's survival.

"A truce?" he asked, rubbing his thumb over Braelyn's hip. She nodded.

"It's fragile," she warned, "but there's..."

"Hope?" Rommath supplied with a smile.

"Yes," she said, "and it promises great things." She smiled when Rommath hummed noncommittally.

"It is good enough to take the risk," he said finally.

"What kind of risk?" she asked, and Rommath heard the hope in her voice. In the background, Andorien had to grab Odariah to stop her from throwing herself on the couple.

"A cross-faction marriage," Rommath said, and then let out a huff as Braelyn crushed him in a hug.

"People will still be upset," she said, running her hands down his back. "There will still be people calling me, _us_, traitors."

"I know," he replied, "and I will always be afraid for you. But I will no longer let that fear dictate my behaviour. If people do not approve of us, then it is their problem, not ours. As long as we're together, I can deal with anything."

He looked at Braelyn's friends, a question in his eyes. Andorien just nodded at him calmly. He could tell the night elf had reservations, but that he was also willing to put them aside for Braelyn's sake. Her cousin surprised him with the warm smile she sent him. It seemed the priest's initial anger at him had been cooled by his behaviour towards Braelyn since he woke up.

"It will be difficult, and I can't promise that things will turn out the way we want," he said, "but I _can_ promise you two things; I will always love you, and I will never push you away again."

He pulled back, looking at Braelyn, who had tears forming in the corners of her eyes. She was smiling, her lower lip trembling. He kissed her freckles. "What do you say, Miss Hawke?" he asked. "Are you stubborn enough to put up with me for the rest of your life? Will you marry me?"

Odariah's excited squeal almost drowned out Braelyn's enthusiastic "By the Light, yes!"

He kissed her, not caring they weren't alone. When they finally parted, Braelyn looked up at him with a smile. "Where will we live?" she asked. "I still have a year to go on my contract with the Crusade."

"I'm sure I can convince Lor'themar to let you teleport to Silvermoon at the end of your shifts, if Highlord Fordring approves."

"Really?" Braelyn asked skeptically. "That might ruffle a few feathers."

"Crusaders are welcome in Silvermoon," Rommath replied. "Besides, every day for the past few months, a little girl named Allysandra has come to the Spire, demanding that Lor'themar bring you back to the city. He might be glad of the chance to appease her."

Braelyn laughed. She'd no idea she'd made such a positive impression on the young blood elf.

"You know, Halduron is going to be unbearable when he hears the news," she teased. Rommath groaned.

"Then we have no choice but to elope to Shattrath," he groaned. "I refuse to have him at the wedding, he'll laugh through the entire ceremony. Boxer, too."

Braelyn laughed softly, pressing a kiss to his shoulder.

"You could always get married here," a new voice said from the doorway.

"My lord!" Braelyn squeaked, attempting to stand, but Rommath refused to let her go. She blushed furiously as her superior officer grinned at them.

"At ease, child," he said warmly. "You're mother told me that a proposal of some sort could be in your future, so I've come to make you an offer that might make life a lot easier for you and the Grand Magister.

"What kind of offer?" Rommath asked, eyes narrowing. Despite his love for Braelyn, his distrust of the human race would not disappear overnight, and he did not know Highlord Fordring very well.

"Well, Rommath," the paladin replied, "I have a plan to boost the Crusades' ranks, and Braelyn could be just the person I need to make it succeed..."

* * *

**AN -** I'm hoping that people aren't too disappointed that I didn't cover the whole of SoO. I struggle with fight scenes, and I also didn't really need to involve our brave heroes in it too much, as they were only there to look for Rommath.

And no, Feff, boosting the crusaders' ranks does not involve Braelyn and Rommath having 30000 kids.

At the end of this story, I will be tacking on a bit of info about the Agents of Light and other characters within this story. This is so other authors here can use them in their own stories if they wish. I'm happy to allow this, as long as due credit is given, and I know about it so I can read it.

At the moment I am debating whether to write the sequel first, or the what-if story. The sequel is probably going to win out, mainly because I am still thinking about alternative love interests for Braelyn in the What-if. I have someone in mind, and I still like the idea of using him, but he may be too similar to Rommath. Suggestions are welcome, though they MUST be Alliance, and have a good/believable reason to be in/visiting Stormwind, especially the Keep.

Next Chapter: it's the final one! We find out what Fordring's great plan is, and Randall pays a surprise visit to Silvermoon, and he isn't alone!


	20. Randall's accomplice

**One month later.**

Braelyn grinned as she walked through the portal from Hearthglen to the gates of Silvermoon City. She could have portalled straight to Sunfury Spire, but she wanted to experience walking into the city as a free citizen.

It was time for her to return to her adopted home, and she would enter of her own volition this time, with her head held high, not as a terrified slave.

She paused a few metres before the main entrance into Silvermoon. The sun glinted off her new mail armour, causing it to shine silver in the light, and a soft breeze ruffled her Argent Crusade tabard. Her new bow, made of silver and enchanted to glow with a radiant blue light, was a reassuring weight upon her back.

She was not afraid, but could not deny that she was nervous. It was her first day in her new role as the Argent Crusade's ambassador to the Horde, and she wanted to do things right, make a good first impression.

Or second impression in her case.

Highlord Fordring hoped that by appointing permanent representatives to both factions, then the leaders of the Horde and Alliance would not be able to ignore the work that still needed to be done in Northrend and Lordaeron, and that their people would heed the call. By choosing to send a human to the Horde and a Tauren to the Alliance, he also hoped to remind them of all that could be accomplished when they united under a common cause.

Braelyn would be spending most of her days in Orgrimmar, but she would be living in Silvermoon. Rommath had already created a portal in Sunfury Spire for her to use.

Her grin widened as she thought of her fiance. Because of her armour, she wore her engagement ring on a chain around her neck, tucked beneath her tabard. It was beautifully crafted; a delicate gold band set with a single ruby the same colour as the crystals that graced Silvermoon's skyline.

"Are you just going to stand there grinning like a crazy woman all day?" a male voice asked dryly.

"Halduron!" Braelyn said happily as she took the arm he held out to her. "What are you doing out here?

"Lor'themar thought it only proper that our newest diplomat get an escort into the city," the Ranger General replied with a cheeky grin. "Rommath wanted to do it, but I outrank him. I wanted the chance to do this again under better circumstances."

"I understand," Braelyn replied, laughing. "I was thinking earlier about how nice it will be to enter the Spire looking like a live person, and not some half-dead creature you'd just bought of a death knight."

"You didn't have to pay me back for that," Halduron said, as the pair made their way into the city. "I've never regretted spending that money."

"I didn't," Braelyn chuckled. "Rommath did. He didn't want you getting any ideas."

Halduron laughed. "I wouldn't be game enough to try anything. He throws a mean fire-ball when he's mad... or jealous. Or both."

Braelyn looked around as they walked slowly to the Spire, her eyes eagerly drinking in the city's sights. Silvermoon was as beautiful as she remembered, but there was a difference. It seemed brighter, and more inviting than before, as if her changed circumstances infused the city with a warmth it had lacked. She couldn't help the delighted laugh that escaped her lips.

Her spirits continued to rise as she noticed that the people of Silvermoon were not sending any hostility her way. There were some suspicious glances and mutterings, but nothing that caused Braelyn concern. She had all the time in the world to change their minds.

"Here we are," Halduron said as they reached the Court of the Sun. "Are you ready?"

Braelyn nodded. "Yes. I feel like I've been waiting for this day my whole life."

"The let's go."

Braelyn took a couple of deep breaths as she walked into Sunfury Spire. Her eyes immediately locked onto Rommath, who was standing next to Lor'themar Theron. He looked as stern and unapproachable as ever, except for his eyes, which took on the warm glow that was reserved only for her.

Lorelai was standing off to one side, and she gave Braelyn a huge smile and a wave as they made eye contact. Boxer was standing on the other side of the room, along with the other Silvermoon ambassadors. While his colleagues didn't look too impressed, the goblin was grinning, too, and Braelyn knew he was struggling not to laugh.

Halduron guided her to Lor'themar, bowing before the Regent Lord. "My lord, I present to you Ambassador Braelyn Hawke, of the Argent Crusade."

Lor'themar Theron looked at Braelyn and smiled, holding his hand out for her to shake. "Welcome back to Silvermoon City, Ambassador," he said warmly. "I am pleased to see you return."

"Thank you, Regent Lord," Braelyn replied with a small smile. "I can assure you, the feeling is mutual. It is wonderful to be home."

* * *

It was well past midnight, and Braelyn stood on the balcony of her and Rommath's bedroom. It was a warm, calm night, and she was enjoying the fresh air and beautiful view. Violet was perched on the railing, trilling happily as she rubbed her face on the silk shirt her master was wearing.

_I wish I knew who that Stormwind guard really is, _she thought. _I owe him so much, including an apology. I wouldn't have all this, wouldn't have Rommath, without his interference. I wish I could thank him._

"What are you doing out here, dear heart?" Rommath said, appearing quietly behind Braelyn and slipping his hands around her waist. "It's late, and I no longer sleep well without you."

"Just enjoying the view, my love," Braelyn replied, wrapping her arms around his. "I missed it so much." Her voice wobbled slightly, the only sign of how hard the separation from Rommath had been, and how glad she was to be back here in this house with him.

"As I missed you," he murmured, nuzzling her hair. "But you are home now, so do not waste time dwelling on the past." She felt comforted by his touch, and turned to hug him. He stroked her hair as she kissed his neck.

After a few minutes, he shifted his grip so he could pick her up. "Come, let me show you how much I missed you," he said softly, and carried her back inside.

The rest of the night was blissful and passed quickly; a wonderful start to their new life together.

* * *

Across the street, hidden in the shadows surrounding Aethas Sunreaver's house, two figures stood watching as the Grand Magister of Silvermoon carried his beloved inside. They both sported the same happy, and rather smug, grin.

"I knew they'd get there in the end," Randall Garret said quietly, with a satisfied nod.

"Sure made us work for it though," his companion said, laughing. "That Braelyn, too stubborn for her own good." The man cackled as he remembered all the hard work he'd had to put in to ensure the two headstrong fools got together.

"I ever tell ya how she nearly resisted my mind control back in Tranquilien?" his fellow Agent asked. "And don't even get me started on how long it took to convince those elves to let me tag along on their pursuit!"

"You did well, my friend," Randall said, smiling down at his accomplice. He'd never have been able to accomplish this happy ending if it weren't for his help. The man was an invaluable ally in guiding Braelyn and Rommath towards each other.

The two Agent's of the Light remained in their vigil until they saw the last light go out in the Grand Magister's house.

"Anyway, Randy, I gotta get goin'. I have a meetin' to attend first thing in the mornin', and I need my beauty sleep," the goblin said, and began walking off towards the house he shared with his wife on the Walk of Elders.

"Goodnight, Boxer. Sleep well, and may we meet again in the Light," the Stormwind guard said. The only reply he got was a cheerful wave.

Randall Garret, Stormwind Guard and Agent of the Light, took one last look at the Grand Magister's home. He recalled what Braelyn had thought to herself before Rommath had shown up, and smiled. "You're welcome, dear girl," he said. "You have a bright future, and we expect great things from you."

He let out a contented laugh, and faded away into the peaceful night air, leaving the residents of Silvermoon to their dreams of a golden future.

But the Light was not yet done with Braelyn Hawke...

* * *

**AN - ** a happy, but rather mysterious ending! Not so subtle lead in to the sequel, there. Yeah, I'm real smooth.

This story has almost as many chapters as my other multi-chapter works, but is heaps longer. I'm oddly proud.

The sequel: Tentatively titled 'The Shadows of Our Past'.

Set two years after this story, in a world that is enjoying an unexpected, but fragile, peace.

Jaina Proudmoore, though pledging Dalaran to the Alliance, has become increasing aggressive over the years, especially in regards to the Sunreavers and their 'theft' of the Divine Bell.

Aethas Sunreaver, consumed with guilt, makes a confession to Rommath that threatens to plunge Azeroth back into war.

Braelyn Hawke, meanwhile, has accepted a job that puts her smack dab in the middle of the conflict... and makes her some powerful enemies.

Oh, and there's a wedding in there. Somewhere.


	21. Chapter 21

Just a note to let you guys know that the first chapter of the sequel, The Shadow of Our Pasts, is up.


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